Luyện nghe bài hát You're the Top

At words poetic, I'm so
That I always have it best,
of getting 'em off my chest,
To let 'em unexpressed.
I hate my serenading
As I'll probably a bar,
But if ditty is not so pretty,
At least 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,
You're a Bendel bonnet, a sonnet,
You're Mouse.
the Nile, You're the Tow'r of Pisa,
You're the smile on the 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 hand, boy, you shine
And I can after every line
A thrill down my spine.
Now gifted humans like Youmans
Might think your song is bad,
But for a who's just rehearsin'
Well I gotta say my lad:

You're the top! You're Ghandi.
You're the top! You're brandy.
You're the purple light of a night in Spain,
the National Gall'ry, You're Garbo's sal'ry,
cellophane.
You're sublime, a turkey 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.
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, a night 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 tread of the feet of Fred 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, the steppes of Russia,
You're the on a Roxy usher.
I'm a lazy that's 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,
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! the Tower of Babel.
You're the top! You're the Stable.
By the River Rhine, a sturdy stein of beer,
You're a dress from Saks's, next year's taxes,'
stratosphere.
You're my thoist, You're a Lipstick,
You're da foist in da svipstick,
I'm a frightened that can find no log to hop,
But if, Baby, I'm the bottom,
the top!