Luyện nghe bài hát You're the Top

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

the top! You're the Colosseum,
You're the top! the Louvre Museum,
You're a melody a symphony by Strauss,
You're a Bendel bonnet, a sonnet,
You're Mouse.
You're the Nile, You're the of Pisa,
You're the 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 divine down my spine.
Now gifted humans Vincent Youmans
think that your song is bad,
But for a person who's just
Well I gotta say my lad:

You're the top! You're Ghandi.
You're the top! You're brandy.
You're the light of a summer night in Spain,
You're the National Gall'ry, You're sal'ry,
cellophane.
You're sublime, a turkey dinner.
the time of the Derby 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.
the top! You're a Brewster body.
You're the boats that glide on the Zuider Zee,
You're a Panning, You're Bishop Manning,
broccoli.
You're a prize, You're a 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! an Arrow collar.
You're the top! You're a dollar.
You're the nimble tread of the feet of Astaire,
an O'Neill drama, You're Whistler's mama,
Camembert.
You're a rose, Inferno's Dante,
You're the of the great Durante.
I'm just in the way, as the would say
"De trop,"
But if, Baby, I'm the bottom,
the top.

You're the top! You're a salad.
You're the top! You're a ballad.
a baby 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! You're a in Bali.
the top! You're a hot tamale.
You're an angel, you too, too, too divine,
You're a Botticelli, Keats, You're Shelley,
Ovaltine.
You're a boon, the dam at Boulder,
You're the moon 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! the Tower of Babel.
You're the top! You're the Stable.
By the River Rhine, You're a stein of beer,
You're a dress Saks's, You're next year's taxes,'
stratosphere.
You're my thoist, a Drumstick Lipstick,
You're the foist in the svipstick,
I'm a frightened that can find no log to hop,
But if, Baby, I'm the bottom,
the top!