Louis Bellson Lyrics

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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 a melody from a symphony by Strauss,
You're a Bendel bonnet, a Shakespeart sonnet,
You're Mickey Mouse.
You're the Nile, You're the Tow'r 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 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:

You're the top! You're Mahatma Ghandi.
You're the top! You're Napolean 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 turkey 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 bottom,
You're the top!

You're the top! You're a Ritz hot toddy.
You're the top! You're a Brewster body.
You'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 blop,
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 nost of 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.

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 bottom,
You're 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 simply too, too, too divine,
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!

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 the foist in the Irish svipstick,
I'm a frightened frog that can find no log to hop,

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

Overall Meaning

The song "You're Mine, You" is a romantic ballad highlighting the timeless adoration that two people share for each other. The lyrics depict a man, who believes that his poetic expressions fall short in comparison to the beauty of his muse. He starts by confessing that he finds it difficult to express his emotions in words and prefers to hide them deep. However, the singer cannot resist expressing his admiration for his partner and uses the lyrics to describe her greatness. In the second verse, the woman, who is the recipient of the man's admiration, expresses her feeling towards the man. She acknowledges the man's poetic prowess, which is so good that she feels a thrill in her spine after every line. She continues by saying that the song is not great according to others' judgment, but to her, it is terrific.

Line by Line Meaning

At words poetic, I'm so pathetic
I'm bad at expressing myself poetically

That I always have found it best, Instead of getting 'em off my chest, To let 'em rest unexpressed.
I prefer to keep my feelings to myself than express them poorly

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.
I'm not good at singing, but this song will tell you how amazing 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 Shakespeart sonnet, You're Mickey Mouse.
You're the best! You're iconic landmarks, beautiful music, fashionable attire, impressive literature, and beloved cartoon characters.

You're the Nile, You're the Tow'r of Pisa, You're the smile on the Mona Lisa.
You're famous wonders of the world and famous artwork.

I'm a worthless check, a total wreck, a flop, But if, Baby, I'm the bottom, You're the top!
I'm not successful, but you are the best!

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:
Some people might think your song isn't good, but I think it's great.

You're the top! You're Mahatma Ghandi. You're the top! You're Napolean 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 the best! You're a famous pacifist, a luxurious drink, the beauty of Spain, famous art, and the salary of a famous actress, among other things.

You're sublime, You're a turkey dinner. You're the time of the Derby winner.
You're great! You're a delicious meal and the timing of an important event.

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 the best! You're fashionable clothing, high-value currency, iconic dancing, prestigious theater, famous artwork, and delicious cheese.

You're a rose, You're Inferno's Dante, You're the nost of the great Durante.
You're beautiful flowers, famous literature, and iconic comedians.

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 the best! You're delicious food, beautiful music, elegant musical instruments, famous painting, high-society women, and a popular toothpaste brand.

You're romance, You're the steppes of Russia, You're the pants on a Roxy usher.
You're romantic love, beautiful geography, and fashionable clothing.

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 divine, You're a Botticelli, You're Keats, You're Shelley, You're Ovaltine.
You're the best! You're exotic dances, spicy foods, beautiful religious figures, famous art and literature, and delicious chocolate milk.

You're a boon, You're the dam at Boulder, You're the moon over Mae West's shoulder.
You're a blessing, an impressive feat of engineering, and beautiful scenery.

You're my thoist, You're a Drumstick Lipstick, You're the foist in the Irish svipstick,
You're my inspiration, a popular candy, and an important component of an Irish dance.

I'm a frightened frog that can find no log to hop, But if, Baby, I'm the bottom, You're the top!
I'm scared and insignificant, but you're the best!

Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Written by: Cole Porter

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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