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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 you how great you are

You're the top you're the Collosseum
You're the top you're the Louvre Museum
You're the 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 Tow'r 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 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 by 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 nimble tread of the feet of Fred Astaire
You're an O'Neal 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 a lazy lout who's just about to stop
But if baby I'm the bottom
You're the top