To the tune of the same name from Anything Goes
Filked by Echo

At words prose-etic
I'm so pathetic
That I always have found it best
Instead of posting them on the 'net
To let them rest
Unexpressed

I hate parading
My serenading
For I'll probably miss the 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 old Ben Kenobi
You're the top
You're Whyren's Reserve Whiskey
You're the golden light of twin sunset on Tatooine!
You're Grand Amdiral Thrawn's gallery
You're Lando's salary,
You're Palpatine!

You're sublime
You're an Ewok dinner
You're the time
Of a Kessel Run winner
I'm a furry buffoon
That's been fed one too many Space Pops!
But if baby, I'm the bottom,
You're the top!

You're the top
You're a kolm-grass salad
You're the top
You're a Sy Snootles ballad
You're the Wookiee friend
Of a Lady and a Gent
You're a Jedi Master
You're Mara's blaster
You're senate president!

You're romance
You're a new Sun Crusher
You're the pants
On a scruffy smuggler
I'm a protocol droid to paranoid to
STOP!
But if baby, I'm the bottom,
You're the TOP!