Testo di 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 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 nimble tread of the feet of Fred Astaire You’re an O’Neill drama, you’re Whistler’s mama You’re camembert You’re a rose, you’re Inferno’s Dante You’re the nose of the great Durante I’m just in a way, as the French would say, de trop But if baby I’m the bottom, you’re the top, the top, the top! 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 diveen You’re a Botticelli, you’re Keats, you’re Shelley 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, or gop! But if baby I’m 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 boats that glide on the sleepy Zuider Zee You’re an Old Dutch Master, you’re Lady Astor 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 But if baby I’m the bottom, you’re the top! You’re the top!