You're The Top
Easy Virtue Lyrics
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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!
The lyrics of this song titled "You're The Top" present two characters who are trying to outdo each other in praising the other. The first character starts by admitting that their poetic skills are not impressive and that they find it hard to express their feelings. As a result, they have decided that the best way to put their feelings across is by singing this song. They then proceed to tell the other character that they are the best in everything, using various metaphors and comparisons to express how great the other person is. They admit that they are not worth much and that they are a "worthless check, a total wreck, a flop," but the other person is the "top."
However, the second character does not agree with their assessment of themselves. They believe that the first character is actually very good with words and poetry, and that they shine every time they speak. They also proceed to sing praises to the other character, comparing them to famous people, places, and things. They acknowledge that some people might think the song is bad, but they believe it is perfect for the occasion.
It's a playful and humorous song that's all about giving compliments and hyping up each other's qualities. The lyrics are cleverly crafted and full of witty comparisons that make the song enjoyable to listen to.
Line by Line Meaning
At words poetic, I'm so pathetic
I'm really bad at expressing myself poetically
That I always have found it best, Instead of getting 'em off my chest, To let 'em rest unexpressed.
So instead of even trying to express my feelings, I keep them hidden inside
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.
Even though I'm not great at singing, at least this song will convey how wonderful 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 are the best of the best, from the historic Colosseum to the iconic Mickey Mouse
You're the Nile, You're the Tow'r of Pisa, You're the smile on the Mona Lisa.
You are as impressive as the mighty Nile, as enduring as the Tower of Pisa, and as iconic as the Mona Lisa's smile
I'm a worthless check, a total wreck, a flop, But if, Baby, I'm the bottom, You're the top!
Compared to you, I'm nothing - a failure, a total mess. But even then, you are the best
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.
Your poetic words are like magic to me, and they give me goosebumps with every line
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:
Even though some talented people may not appreciate your song, to me, it's absolutely wonderful
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 are like the great Mahatma Gandhi, the luxurious Napoleon brandy, the beautiful purple light of a Spanish night, the prestigious National Gallery, the admired Garbo's salary, and even the humble cellophane
You're sublime, You're a turkey dinner. You're the time of the Derby winner.
You are a wonder to behold, from a delicious turkey dinner to the moment of a victorious racehorse
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 are graceful like Fred Astaire's dance steps, dramatic like an O'Neill play, elegant like Whistler's mother, and even delightful like Camembert cheese
You're a rose, You're Inferno's Dante, You're the nost of the great Durante.
You are beautiful like a rose, talented like Dante of the Inferno, and even as charming as the great Durante
You're the Tower of Babel. 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 are as monumental as the Tower of Babel, as elegant as the Whitney Stable, as strong as a stein of German beer by the Rhine, as exquisite as a dress from Saks', as unavoidable as next year's taxes, and even as high as the 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!
You are everything to me, like a throat lozenge or a Drumstick Lipstick, even the first piece in an Irish jig. Compared to you, I'm nothing more than a scared frog with nowhere to go. But if I'm a failure, you are the top
Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Written by: Cole Porter
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind