You're The Top
Sammy Davis Lyrics

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'm not good with coming up with romantic lines, so I prefer keeping them to myself rather than expressing 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 don't like publicly singing my songs, but even if this one sounds bad, it's still praising 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'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!
You're everything great in this world - from ancient wonders to modern icons - and I'm nothing in comparison, but you elevate me simply by being with me.

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:
Your poetic words are amazing, you have a great talent. Although others may not appreciate your song as much, I feel a thrill whenever I hear them. And for someone who's just practicing, your talent is remarkable.

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 are as amazing as iconic historical figures and luxurious amenities! You are also both beautiful and practical at the same time. In comparison, I'm nothing remarkable, but with you, I feel like I'm on top of the world.

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 represent elegance and refinement that one finds in a collar, currency or a dance. You're the embodiment of art and culture, and you're also cheesy yet sophisticated like Camembert. I feel like I'm a nuisance in comparison, but with you, I feel appreciated.

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 remind me of sophisticated dishes and melodies, as well as elegance and status. At the same time, you represent the healthy sustenance of Pepsodent toothpaste. I'm not doing much in comparison, but I feel like I'm on top with you.

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!
You're like an exotic dance or spicy food, or even an angel who's too divine for words. You're inspiring like a painting, a poet or an author, and you're also the everyday luxury of Ovaltine. I'm just a political nominee, but with you, I feel like I'm the best.

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 da foist in da 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're the Tower of Babel, which represents a pinnacle of human achievement, and you're also elegance and luxury like the Whitney Stable. You also have the German stability of Rhine, a fashionable dress from Saks, and you're even the abstraction of taxes. You speak to me in my native tongue and inspire me like lipstick, and I feel like I'm lost without you.