Luyện nghe bài hát You're the Top

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

You're the top! the Colosseum,
the top! You're the Louvre Museum,
You're a melody a symphony by Strauss,
You're a Bendel bonnet, a sonnet,
Mickey Mouse.
You're the Nile, the Tow'r of Pisa,
You're the on the Mona Lisa.
I'm a worthless check, a 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 after every line
A thrill down my spine.
Now gifted humans Vincent Youmans
Might think your song is bad,
But for a who's just rehearsin'
I gotta say this my lad:

You're the top! You're Ghandi.
the top! You're Napolean brandy.
You're the purple of a summer 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 that is fated soon 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 sleepy 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.
You're the top! a Coolidge dollar.
You're the nimble tread of the feet of Astaire,
You're an O'Neill drama, You're 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! a Waldorf salad.
You're the top! You're a ballad.
You're a baby 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 on a Roxy 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 diveen,
a Botticelli, You're 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! You're the of Babel.
You're the top! You're the Stable.
By the Rhine, You're a sturdy stein of beer,
You're a from Saks's, You're next year's taxes,'
stratosphere.
You're my thoist, a Drumstick Lipstick,
You're da in da Irish svipstick,
I'm a frog that can find no log to hop,
But if, Baby, I'm the bottom,
the top!