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