Luyện nghe bài hát You're the Top

At poetic, I'm so pathetic
I always have found it best,
Instead of 'em off my chest,
To let 'em unexpressed.
I hate parading my
As I'll miss a bar,
But if ditty is not so pretty,
At it'll tell you how great you are.

the top! You're the Colosseum,
You're the top! You're the Museum,
You're a from a symphony by Strauss,
a Bendel bonnet, a Shakespeart sonnet,
You're Mouse.
You're the Nile, You're the of Pisa,
the smile on the Mona Lisa.
I'm a check, a total wreck, a flop,
But if, Baby, I'm the bottom,
the top!

Your poetic are not pathetic
On the other hand, boy, you
And I can feel after line
A thrill divine my spine.
Now gifted like Vincent Youmans
think that your song is bad,
But for a who's just rehearsin'
Well I gotta say this my

the top! You're Mahatma Ghandi.
You're the top! You're brandy.
You're the purple light of a night in Spain,
You're the National Gall'ry, Garbo's sal'ry,
cellophane.
You're sublime, You're a dinner.
You're the time of the winner.
I'm a toy balloon that is fated to pop.
But if, Baby, I'm the bottom,
the top!

You're the top! You're a hot toddy.
You're the top! a Brewster body.
You're the boats that glide on the Zuider Zee,
You're a Nathan Panning, Bishop Manning,
broccoli.
You're a prize, a night at Coney,
You're the eyes of Bordoni,
I'm a doll, a fol-de-rol, a blop,
But if, Baby, I'm the bottom,
the top.

You're the top! You're an collar.
the top! You're a Coolidge dollar.
You're the nimble of the feet of Fred Astaire,
You're an O'Neill drama, You're mama,
Camembert.
You're a rose, You're Dante,
You're the of the great Durante.
I'm just in the way, as the French say
"De trop,"
But if, Baby, I'm the bottom,
the top.

You're the top! You're a salad.
You're the top! a Berlin ballad.
You're a grand of a lady and a gent.
You're an old dutch master, Mrs. Aster,
Pepsodent.
You're romance, You're the of Russia,
You're the pants on a usher.
I'm a lazy lout just about to stop,
But if Baby, I'm the bottom,
the top!

You're the top! a dance in Bali.
the top! You're a hot tamale.
You're an angel, you too, too, too divine,
You're a Botticelli, You're Keats, Shelley,
Ovaltine.
You're a boon, the dam at Boulder,
You're the over Mae West's shoulder.
I'm a of the G.O.P. or GOP,
But if, Baby, I'm the bottom,
the top!

You're the top! You're the of Babel.
You're the top! You're the Stable.
By the River Rhine, You're a stein of beer,
You're a from Saks's, You're next year's taxes,'
stratosphere.
You're my thoist, You're a Lipstick,
You're the in the Irish svipstick,
I'm a frightened frog that can no log to hop,
But if, Baby, I'm the bottom,
the top!