My story is much to sad to be told
But practically everything leaves me totally cold
The only exception I know is the case
When Im out on a quiet spree, fighting vainly the old ennui
Then I suddenly turn and see
Your fabulous face
I get no kick from champagne
Mere alcohol doesnt thrill me at all
So tell me why should it be true
That I get a kick out of you
Some like the perfume from spain
Im sure that if I took even one sniff
It would bore me terrifically too
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 its clear to see, you obviously do not adore me
I get no kick in a plane
Flying too high with some gal in the sky
Is my idea of nothing to do
But I get a kick out of you
But I get a kick out of you