You're The Top

You're The Top - Ethel Merman

Written by：Edward Caswall/John (gb 1) Goss

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'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 Mahatma Gandhi

You're the top

You're the 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 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 that just about to stop

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