Verse 1
At words po-et-ic I'm so pa-thet-ic 
that I al-ways have found it best,
In-stead of get-ting 'em off___my chest,
to let 'em rest un-ex-pressed.

I hate pa-rad-ing my ser-e-nad-ing 
As I'll prob-a-bly miss__a bar,
But if this dit-ty Is not so pret-ty 
At least it 'll tell you how great you are.

Refrain #1
You're the top!    You're the Co-los-se-um,
You're the top!    You're the Louvr' Mu-se-um,
You're a mel-o-dy__From a sym-pho-ny__ by Strauss,
You're a Ben-del bon-net, A Shake-speare son-net, 
You're Mick-y Mouse.___

You're the Nile,   You're the Tow'r of Pi-sa,
You're the smile   on the Mo-na Lis-a;
I'm a worth-less cheek, a to - tal wreck, a flop,
But if Ba-by, I'm__ the bot-tom, You're the top!

Verse 2
Your words po-et-ic are not pa-thet-ic.
On the other hand, boy, you shine,
And I can feel after every line
A thrill divine    Down my spine.

Now gifted humans like Vincent Youmans
Might think that your song is bad,
But for a person who's just rehearsin'
Well, I gotta say this my lad:

Refrain #2
You're the top!    You're Mahatma Gandhi.
You're the top!    Napoleon Brandy.
You're the purple light of a summer night in Spain.
You're the National Gall'ry, You're Garbo's sal'ry,
You're cellophane.

You're sublime,   You're a tur-key dinner,
You're the time   Of the Derby winner.
I'm a toy balloon that is fated soon to pop,
But if, baby, I'm the bot-tom, You're the top!

Refrain #3
You're the top!    You're a Ritz hot toddy.
You're the top!    You're a Brewster body.
Your're the boats that glide on the sleepy Zuider Zee,
You're a Nathan panning, You're Bishop Manning,
You're broccoli.

You're a prize,    You're a night at Coney.
You're the eyes    Of Irene Bordoni.
I'm a broken doll, a fol-de-rol, a biop,
But if, baby, I'm the bot-tom You're the top!

Refrain #4
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    On the great Durante.
I'm just in the way, as the French would say "De trop,"
But if, baby, I'm the bot-tom You're the top!

Refrain #5
You're the top!    You're a Waldorf salad.
You're the top!    You're a Berlin ballad.
You're a baby grand of a lady and a gent,
You're an old Dutch master, You're Mrs. Aster,
You're Pepsodent.

You're romance,    You're the steppes of Russia,
You're the pants   on a Roxy usher.
I'm a lazy lout that's just about to stop.
But if, baby, I'm the bot-tom You're the top!

Refrain #6
You're the top!    You're a dance in Bali.
You're the top!    You're a hot tamale.
You're an angel, you, simply too, 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 a nominee of the G.O.P or GOP,
But if, baby, I'm the bottom You're the top!

Refrain #7
You're the top!    You're The Tower of Babel.
You're the top!    You're the Whitney Stable.
By the river Rhine,  You're a sturdy stein of beer,
You're a dress from Saks's, You're next year's taxes,
You're stratosphere.

You're my thoist,  You're a Drumstick Lipstick,
You're de foist In da Irish Svipstick.
I'm a frightened frog That can find no log To hop,
But if, baby, I'm the bot-tom You're the top!