My story is much too sad to be told
But practic'ly ev'rything 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
Melody
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 a bop-type refrain
I'm sure that if I heard even one riff that would
Bore me terrific'y, too
Yet I get a kick out of you
Bridge
I get a kick ev'ry time I see you're standing there before me
I get a kick, though it's clear to me
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 boot
Yes, I get a kick out of you