You Re The Top lyrics translation: ANYTHING GOES You Re The Top song texte and letras ANYTHING GOES You Re The Top tab, paroles and testo ANYTHING GOES You Re The Top Karaoke and Music Video - none yet
HER:
At words poetic, I`m so pathetic
That I always have found it best,
Instead of getting `em off my chest,
To let `em rest unexpressed,
I hate parading
My seranading
As I`ll probably miss a 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 Colosseum.
You`re the top!
You`re the Louvre Museum.
You`re a melody from a symphony by Strauss,
You`re a Bendel bonnet,
A Shakrespeare 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!
HIM:
Your words poetic are not pathetic.
On the other hand, babe, you shine.
And I can feel after every line
A thrill devine
Up my spine.
Now gifted humans like Vincent Youmans
Might think that your song is bad,
But I got a notion
I`ll second the motion
And this is what I`m going to add:
You`re the top!
You`re Mahatma Gandhi.
You`re the top!
You`re Napolean 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 a 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!
HER:
You`re the top!
You`re an arrow collar.
You`re the top!
You`re a Coolidge dollar.
You`re the nimble thread of the feet of Fred Astaire,
You an O`Neill drama
HIM:
You`re Whistler`s mother
HER:
You`re Camembert.
HIM:
You`re a rose
You`re Inferno`s Dante
HER:
You`re the note
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!
HIM:
You`re the top!
You`re a dance in Bali.
You`re the top!
You`re a hot tamale.
You`re an angel, you`re simply too, too, too diveen.
You`re a Botticelli,
You`re Keats,
HER:
You`re Shelley.
HIM:
You`re Ovaltine.
You`re a boon,
You`re the dam at Boulder,
You`re the moon over Mae West`s shoulder.
I`m the nominee of the G.O.P.
HER:
or GOP!
HIM:
But if, baby, I`m the bottom,
You`re the top!
HER:
You`re the top!
You`re a Waldorf salad.
You`re the top!
You`re a Berlin ballad.
You`re the boats that glide on the sleepy Zuider Zee,
You`re an old Dutch master,
HIM:
You`re Lady Astor!
HER:
You`re broccoli.
You`re romance.
You`re the steppes of Russia,
You`re the pants on a Roxy usher,
I`m a broken doll, a fol-de-rol, a blop,