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 fightly 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 terrifically, too, yet 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 clear to me, you obviously don't
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, yet I get a kick out of you