Ella Fitzgerald — Youre The Top

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 Colosseum 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 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 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, bab,y 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