Lyrics

My story is much to 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 alcohol doesn't move me at all So tell me why should it be true That I get a kick out of you Some like the perfume from Spain I'm sure that if I took even one sniff It would bore me terrifically too I do 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 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 And I get a kick, you give me a boot I get a kick out of you