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You're the Top is a Cole Porter song from the 1934 musical Anything Goes. It's about a man and a woman who take turns complimenting each other. The lyrics are notable because they offer a snapshot as to what was highly prized in the mid-1930s

You’re The Top song lyrics

Song lyrics to You’re The Top, Written by Cole Porter, Performed in Anything Goes

You’re the Top is a Cole Porter song from the 1934 musical Anything Goes. It’s about a man and a woman who take turns complimenting each other. The lyrics are notable because they offer a snapshot as to what was highly prized in the mid-1930s. Unsurprisingly, the lyrics have been changed (and parodied) hundreds of times.

Movie Versions of You’re the Top

  • Ethel Merman sang it in the original 1934 production of Anything Goes.
  • Bing Crosby sang it with Ethel Merman in the 1936 film. He also sang in the 1956 film Anything Goes with Mitzi Gaynor, Donald O’Connor and Jeanmaire.
  • Barbra Streisand performed it in What’s Up, Doc?.
  • Diana Rigg performed it n the 1982 Agatha Christie Poirot film Evil Under the Sun.

TV renditions of You’re the Top

Original You’re the Top lyrics

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 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 Tow’r 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 Ghandi
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 the 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 Waldorf salad
You’re the top
You’re a Berlin ballad
You’re a baby grand of a lady and a gent
You’re an old dutch master, you’re Mrs. Aster
You’re Pepsodent

You’re romance
You’re the steppes of Russia
You’re the pants
On a Roxy usher
I’m a lazy lout that’s just about to stop
But if baby, I’m the bottom
You’re the top

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