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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