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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 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
