You're the Top

At words poetic, I'm so pathetic

That I always have found it best

Instead of getting them off my chest

To let 'em rest unexpressed

I hate parading my serenading

As I probably miss the bar

But if this ditty is not so pretty

At least it'll tell you how great you are

You're the top, you're the Coliseum

You're the top, you're the Louver Museum

You're a melody from a symphony by Strauss

You're a Bendel bonnet, a Shakespeare's sonnet

You're Mickey Mouse

You're the Nile, you're the Tower of Pisa

You're the smile on the Mona Lisa

I'm a worthless check, a total wreck, a flop

But if baby, I'm the bottom, you're the top

You're the top, you're Mahatma Gandhi

You're the top, you're Napoleon Brandy

You're the purple light of a summer night in Spain

You're the National Gallery, you're Garbo's salary

You're cellophane

You're sublime, you're the turkey dinner

You're the time of the Derby winner

I'm a toy balloon that's fated soon to pop

But if baby, I'm the bottom, you're the top

You're the top, you're an arrow collar

You're the top, you're a Coolidge dollar

You're the nimble tread of the feet of Fred Astaire

You're an O'Neill drama, you're Whistler's mama

You're Camembert

You're [Incomprehensible], you're Inferno's Dante

You're the nose on the great Durante

I'm just in the way as the French would say, "De trop"

But if baby, I'm the bottom, you're the top

You're the top, you're the Waldorf salad

You're the top, you're a Berlin ballad

You're the basic grand of a lady and the gents

You're an old Dutch master, you're Mrs. Astor

You're Pepsodent

You're romance, you're the steps of Russia

You're the pants on a Roxy usher

I'm a lazy lout with just about to stop

But if baby, I'm the bottom, you're the top