Louis Armstrong

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 Coliseum
You're the top!
You're the Louver 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!

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'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 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

Or GOP!

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 Zuider Zee
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 fol-de-rol, a blop

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

Louis Armstrong, known throughout his lengthy career by nicknames like “Satchmo”, “Pops” and simply “Louie”, was a trumpeter, composer, singer and occasional actor, as well as one of the most influential figures in the history of jazz.

Born and raised in New Orleans, where jazz itself is alleged to have began, Armstrong started his career in 1918, playing the cornet in brass bands and riverboats along the Mississippi River. There, he caught the attention of his future mentor, King Oliver, joining his band in Chicago, where he networked with other popular jazz musicians like Hoagy Carmichael and his first wife Lil Hardin Armstrong.

In 1924, Louie relocated to New York City playing for the Fletcher Henderson Orchestra. It was at this time he switched over from cornet to trumpet in order to blend in better with the other musicians in his section. It was also when he developed his emotional playing style, which included singing and telling tales of his life back in New Orleans.

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An American Songbook

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An American Songbook