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.