My story is much too sad to be toldBut practically everything leaves me totally cold
The only exception I know is the freezer case
When I'm out on a quiet grocery shopping spree, fighting vainly the old ennui
Then I suddenly turn and see
Your fabulous package in the space
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, they may go for cocaine
I'm sure that if I took even one sniff
It 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 throught the glass door to see
You obviously do not 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
But I get a kick out of you
With apologies to Cole Porter
Photos by Michael Pohuski and Dan Whipps