Lyrics Overture / You're the Top - Anything Goes Orchestra (1962), Julian Stein, Hal Linden & Eileen Rodgers

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 paradin,'
My seranadin'
As I'll probably miss a bar
So, if my ditty
Is not so pretty,
At least it will tell you how great you are

You're the top
You're the colisseum
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, boy you shine
And
I can feel after ev'ry line,
A thrill divine,
Down my spine
Some critical meanie
Like Toscaninni
Might think that your song is bad
But I've got a notion
I'll second the motion
And this is what I'm going to add

You're the top,
You're a silver dollar,
You're the top,
You're an Arrow Collar
You're the nimble thread on the feet of Fred Astaire
You're an O'Neill drama,
You're Whistler's mama,
You're Camembert

You're the pearl,
That the divers fetch up,
Milton Berle,
And tomato ketchup
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 a Caesar salad

You're the top,
You're a Berlin ballad
You're the boy I'd swipe
For the perfect type of male

You're an old Dutch master,
You're Lady Astor,
You're Chippendale
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,
But if baby, I'm the bottom,
But if baby, I'm the bottom,
You're the top!

You're the top
You're a new invention,

You're the top,
You're the fourth dimension,
You're the purple light
Of a summer night in Spain

You're the National Gall'ry,
You're Garbo's salary,
You're cellophane

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 flop!
But if baby, I'm the bottom,
You're the top!