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Pastimes : Come Play With Me - 'Name That Tune' -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?


To: gypsy who wrote (5348)9/28/1998 1:48:00 PM
From: Bald Man from Mars  Read Replies (1) | Respond to of 10709
 
gypsy:

how was your weekend ???
did you go on a trip with Nougie and Mephisto ???
when are you going on a cruise again, can the Bald Man
join you ...



To: gypsy who wrote (5348)9/28/1998 2:09:00 PM
From: flickerful  Read Replies (2) | Respond to of 10709
 
i am positive....it is just an obscure verse, an alternative
intro as stevens so aptly pointed out.

the popular version:Reno:
Billy, where's the old Crocker confidence? You
Think he's got one tiny fraction of your brains,
your looks, your...your...
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's 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!

Billy:
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 turkey dinner,
You're the time, the time of a Derby winner
I'm a toy balloon that is fated soon to pop
But if, baby, I'm the bottom,
You're the top!

Reno:
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,

Billy:
You're Whistler's mama,

Reno:
You're Camembert.

Billy:
You're a rose,
You're Inferno's Dante,

Reno:
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!

Reno:
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 divine,
You're a Boticcelli,
You're Keats,
You're Shelly,
You're Ovaltine.
You're a boom,
You're the dam at Boulder,
You're the moon,
Over Mae West's shoulder,
I'm the nominee of the G.O.P.

Reno:
Or GOP!

Billy:
But if, baby, I'm the bottom,
You're the top!

Reno:
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 Zuider Zee,
You're the National Gallery
You're an old Dutch master,

Billy:
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 fol-de-rol, a blop,

Both:
But if, baby, I'm the bottom,
You're the top!