My transcription from the recording at the Internet Archive: AT THE SCANDINAVIAN BALL (Traditional Melody) As recorded by Stan Boreson and the Art Barduhn Trio on Linden (169 B), date unknown [1940s or 50s]. You should see me vhirl vith my big Svedish girl At the Scandinavian ball. Her big feet yust fly vhen I sving her so high As ve polka around the big hall. All the fellas I see are so yealous of me. They all give my Tina the stare. Their eyes yust pop out vhen I turn her about. By gosh, ve sure are a pair! Then some great big Finn asked if he can come in, But I told him vhere he could go. That started a fight and, oh, boy, vhat a night! I don’t know who struck the first blow. Ole Yensen vent by vith a fist in his eye, And Svenson lay flat on the floor. The orchestra qvit ’cause they kept gettin’ hit, … but those fellers were sore. Yohnson threw a meatball and it splattered the vall. Pickled herring vas thick in the air. Somevone threw a big boot, hit my girl in the snoot. Her teeth yust flew over there. Then that great big Finn kicked me sqvare on the shin. I never saw so many stars. I avoke vith a yell, found myself in a cell, Starin’ through cold prison bars. Now that vas the end, ’cause I lost all my friends. They blamed me for startin’ the brawl. They said: “You are a bum, and next year don’t dare come To the next Scandinavian ball.” Now I sit in my cell ’cause I’m not feelin’ vell ’Bout the terrible pickle I’m in. I yust found out today that my girl ran avay Vith the great big sqvare-headed Finn. Vhen I get out of yail, I am goin’ to nail The yerk who started the brawl. ’Cause it’s his fault, I know, that they von’t let me go To the next Scandinavian ball.
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