In The Wee Small Hours Of The Morning
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,
It would bore me terrifically,too,
Yet 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.
Some get a 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.
I get a kick...out of you.
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,
It would bore me terrifically,too,
Yet 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.
Some get a 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.
I get a kick...out of you.
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Other Ways of Speaking
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I Don't Really Want You
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