2011 Broadway Cast of Anything Goes, Sutton Foster, Colin Donnell - You're the Top lyrics

You think some teabag can compete
With you? You think he's
Got one tiny fraction of your
Brains? Your looks? Your

(sung) at words poetic, I'm so pathetic
That I always have found it best
Instead of getting 'em off my chest
To let 'em rest unexpressed
I hate parading my serenading
As I'll probably miss a bar
But, if this ditty is not so pretty

But least it'll tell you how great you are
You're the top you're the Colosseum
You're the top you're the Louvre Museum
You're a melody from a symphony by Strauss
You're a Bendel bonnet a Shakespeare sonnet
You're Mickey Mouse

You're the Nile you're the Tower of Pisa
You're the smile on the Mona Lisa
I'm a worthless check a total wreck, a flop
But, if, baby, I'm the bottom you're the top

Your words poetic are not pathetic
On the other hand, babe, you shine
And I can feel after every line
A thrill divine down my spine
Now gifted humans like Vincent Youmans
Might think that your song is bad
But, I got a notion I'll second the motion

And this is what I'm going to add
You're the top you're Mahatma Gandhi
You're the top you're Napoleon Brandy
You're the purple light
Of a summer night in Spain
You're the National Gallery
You're Garbo's salary you're cellophane

You're sublime you're a turkey dinner
You're the time of the Derby winner
I'm a toy balloon that's fated soon to pop
But, if, baby, I'm the bottom you're the top
You're the top you're an arrow collar
You're the top you're a Coolidge dollar
You're the nimble tread
Of the feet of Fred Astaire
You're an O'Neill drama

You're Whistler's mama you're Camembert
You're a rose you're Inferno's Dante
You're the nose on the great Durante
I'm just in a way
As the French would say, "de trop"
But, if, baby, I'm the bottom you're the top

You're the top you're a dance in Bali
You're the top you're a hot tamale
You're an angel, you
Simply too, too, too diveen
You're a Boticcelli you're Keats
You're Shelly you're Ovaltine
You're a boon you're the dam at Boulder
You're the moon over Mae West's shoulder
I'm the nominee of the GOP

Or GOP but, if, baby, I'm the bottom
But, if, baby, I'm the bottom
But, if, baby, I'm the bottom you're the top
You're the top you're my Swanee River
You're the top you're a goose's liver
You're the baby grand of a lady and a gent
You're a dress from Saxes
You're next year's taxes you're Pepsodent
You're a prize you're a night at Coney

You're the eyes of Irene Bordoni
I'm a frightened frog
That can find no log to hop
But, if, baby, I'm the bottom you're the top
You're the top you're a Waldorf salad
You're the top you're a Berlin ballad
You're the boats that glide
On the sleepy Zuiderzee
You're an old Dutch master

You're Lady Astor you're broccoli
You're romance you're the steppes of Russia
You're the pants on a Roxy usher
I'm a broken doll a folderol
A blop but, if, baby, I'm the bottom
But, if, baby, I'm the bottom
But, if, baby, I'm the bottom you're the top