Luyện nghe bài hát You're the Top

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

You're the top! the Colosseum,
You're the top! You're the 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,
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 words are not pathetic
On the other hand, boy, you
And I can feel every line
A thrill down my spine.
Now gifted like Vincent Youmans
Might that your song is bad,
But for a person just rehearsin'
Well I say this my lad:

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

You're the top! a Ritz hot toddy.
You're the top! You're a body.
You're the that glide on the sleepy Zuider Zee,
You're a Panning, You're Bishop Manning,
broccoli.
You're a prize, You're a at Coney,
the eyes of Irene 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.
the top! You're a Coolidge dollar.
You're the nimble of the feet of Fred Astaire,
You're an drama, You're Whistler's 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! a Waldorf salad.
the top! You're a Berlin 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,
the pants on a Roxy usher.
I'm a lazy lout that's 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,
the moon 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! the Whitney Stable.
By the River Rhine, a sturdy stein of beer,
You're a dress Saks's, You're next year's taxes,'
stratosphere.
You're my thoist, a Drumstick Lipstick,
da foist in da Irish svipstick,
I'm a frightened frog that can no log to hop,
But if, Baby, I'm the bottom,
the top!