My story is much too sad to be told For practically everythingleaves 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 does thrill me at all So tell me why should 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 terrifically too Still, 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 plain 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' Still, I get a kick out of you And I get a kick out of you