Cole Porter My story is much too sad to be told, But practically ev'rything leaves me totally cold. The only exception I know is the case Where 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 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 terrific'ly too, Yet I get a kick out of you. I get a kick ev'rytime 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 guy in the sky Is my idea of nothing to do, Yet I get a kick out of you.
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