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 Then I suddenly turn and see Your fabulous face Chorus: 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 the perfume from spain I’m sure that if I took even one sniff It would bore me terrifically too But I get a kick out of you ( some like the bop-type refrain ) ( I’m sure that if, I heard even one riff ) ( it would bore me terrifically too ) ( but I get a kick out of you ) ( some they may go for cocaine ) ( I’m sure that if, I took even one sniff ) ( it would bore me terrifically too ) ( but 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 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 But I get a kick out of you