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 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 c**aine 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 standing there before me I get a kick though its 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