You’re the Top Ella Fitzgerald

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
At 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 the 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

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