My story is much too sad to be told
But practically everything leaves me totally cold
The only 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
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
Standing there before me
I get a kick, though it's clear to me
She obviously do not adore me
Some get a kick in a plane
Flying too high with some guy in the sky
Is my idea of nothing to do
But I get a kick out of you
I get a kick out of you
I get a kick out of you
