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 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 cocaine
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 it's 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.