My story is much too sad to be told, But practically everything leaves me totally cold. The only exception I know is the case Where 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 That would bore me terrific'ly too, Yet I get a kick out of you.
I get a kick everything I see You're standing there before me. I get a kick though it's clear to me 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.