My story is much to sad to be told
But practically everything leaves me totally cold

The only exception I know in this case

When I'm out in a quiet spree, fighting vainly the old ennui Then 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 like the bop-type refrain

I'm sure that if, I heard even one riff
That 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 don't adore me
I get no kick in a plane

Flying too high with some gay in the sky
Is my idea of nothing to do
Yet I get a kick out of you   （重复）