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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 enui
And i suddenly turn and see,
Your fabulous face.

I get no kick from Champagne
Mere alchohol 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 cocain
I'm sure that if I took even one sniff
That would bore me terrificly 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
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.

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