You're the Top

You think some teabag can compete with you? You think he's got one tiny fraction of your brains? Your looks? Your- 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 serenading As I'll probably miss a bar But if this ditty is not so pretty At least it'll tell ya how great you are You're the top You're the Coliseum You're the top You're the Louvre Museum You're a melody from a symphony by Strauss You're a Bendel bonnet A Shakespeare 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! Your words poetic are not pathetic On the other hand, babe, you shine And I can feel after every line A thrill divine, down 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 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 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! 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 a O'Neill drama You're Whistler's mama You're Camembert You're a rose 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 a dance in Bali You're the top You're a hot tamale You're an angel, you're simply too-too-too divine You're a Botticelli You're Keats You're Shelley 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. Or GOP! But if, baby, I'm the bottom But if, baby, I'm the bottom But if, baby, I'm the bottom You're the top! You're the top You're my Swanee River You're the top You're a goose's liver You're the baby grand of a lady and a gent You're a dress from Saks' You're next year's taxes You're Pepsodent! You're a prize You're a night at Coney You're the eyes Of Irene Bordoni I'm a frightened frog That can find no log to hop! But if, baby, I'm the bottom you're the top! 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 Zuiderzee You're an old Dutch master You're Lady Astor 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 folderol A blop! But if, baby, I'm the bottom But if, baby, I'm the bottom But if, baby, I'm the bottom You're the top!