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Cole porter |
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My story is much too sad to be told, |
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But practically ev'rything leaves me totally cold. |
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The only exception i know is the case |
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Where 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 no 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 a kick out of you? |
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Some get a kick from cocaine. |
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I'm sure that if i took even one sniff |
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That would bore me terrific'ly too, |
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Yet i get a kick out of you. |
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I get a kick ev'rytime i see |
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You're 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 no 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. |