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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 ennui
And I suddenly turn and see your fabulous face
(Talkin' about me? Ha-ha-ha)
I get no kick from champagne
Mere alcohol doesn't thrill me at all
So tell me, why should it be true? Mm, yeah
I get a kick out of you (me?)
Some, they may go for cocaine
I'm sure that if I took even one sniff
It 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, it's clear to see, 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
I get a kick, though, it's clear to see
You, obviously do not 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
You give me a whirl
I get a kick out of you
Get my kicks out of you
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