My story is much too sad to be told
But practicaly 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 on 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 know that if I took even one sniff
It would bore me terrifically 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 see
You obviously don't adore me
I get no kick in a plane
Flying too high with some guy in the sky
It's my idea of nothing to do
Yet I get a kick out of you
I get a kick out of you
