Anything Goes You`re The Top Lyrics

You`re The Top Lyrics

(1998 London Cast Recording)

 

 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,

 

 BOTH:

 But if baby, I'm the bottom

 You're the top!