My story is much too sad to be told,
But practically everything leaves me totally cold.
The exception I know is the case
When I’m out on a quiet spree,
Fighting vainly the old ennui,
And I suddenly turn and see your fabulous face.
I get no kick from champagne
Mere alcohol doesn’t thrill me at all
So tell me why should it be true
That I get a kick out of you.
Some get a kick from cocaine
I’m sure that if I took even one sniff
It would bore me terrific’ly too
Yet I get a kick out of you.
I get a kick every time I see
You’re standing there before me
I get a kick though it’s clear to see
You obviously don’t adore me.
I get no kick in a plane
Flying too high with some guy in the sky
Is my idea of nothing to do
Yet I get a kick out of you.
