| My story is much too sad to be told,
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| But practically everything leaves me totally cold
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| The only exception I know is the case
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| When I’m out on a quiet spree
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| Fighting vainly the old ennui
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| And I suddenly turn and see
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| Your fabulous face
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| I get nog kick from champagne
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| Mere alcohol doesn’t thrill me at all,
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| So tell me why should it be true
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| That I get akick out of you?
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| Some get a kick from cacaine.
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| I’m sure that if I took even one sniff
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| That would bore me terrificly too
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| Yet I get a kick out of you
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| I get a kick everytime I see
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| You standing there before me
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| I get a kick though it’s clear to me
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| You obviously don’t adore me
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| I get nog kick in a plane
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| Flying too high with some guy in the sky
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| Is my idea of nothing to do,
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| Yet I get a kick out of you |