Testo You're the Top - Patti LuPone feat. Howard McGillin
Testo della canzone You're the Top (Patti LuPone feat. Howard McGillin), tratta dall'album Anything Goes (New Broadway Cast Recording (1987))
Billy, where's the old Crocker confidence?
You think he's got one tiny fraction of your brains?
Your looks? Your - your -
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 Coliseum
You're the top
You're the Louvre Museum
You're a melody from a symphony by Strauss
You're a Bendel bonnet
A Shakespeare sonnet
You're Mickey Mouse!
You're the Nile
You're the Tower 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! (Wait a minute!)
Your words poetic are not pathetic
On the other hand, babe, 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 I've got a notion
I'll second the motion
And this is what I'm going to add
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!
Billy, I beg to differ with you
How do you mean?
You're the top (Yeah?)
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 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're simply too, too, too devine
You're a Botticelli
You're Keats (You're Shelly!)
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 a Waldorf salad
You're the top
You're a Berlin ballad
You're the boats that glide
On the sleepy Zuiderzee
You're an old Dutch master
(You're Lady Astor)
You're broccoli!
You're romance
You're the steps of Russia
You're the pants, yeah yeah yeah
On a Roxy usher
I'm a broken doll
A fol-de-rol, a flop
But if baby, I'm the bottom
You're the top!
Credits
Writer(s): Cole Porter, Augusto Campos
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