My story is much to sad to be told But practically everything leaves me totally cold The only exception I know in this case When I'm out in a quiet spree, fighting vainly the old ennui Then 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 like the bop-type refrain I'm sure that if, I heard even one riff That would bore me terrifically too But 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 gay in the sky Is my idea of nothing to do Yet I get a kick out of you :