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Ten Cents a Dance Ella Fitzgerald
"Ten Cents a Dance" by Ella Fitzgerald, released in 1934, is a #Jazz standard that explores themes of loneliness and the struggles of a dance hall girl selling her time for mere dimes. The poignant lyrics reflect yearning and heartache, while Fitzgerald's expressive vocals and swing rhythm enhance the emotional depth. The song has become a cultural touchstone, highlighting the intersection of love and economic hardship in the era.
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I work at the Palace ballroom, but gee, that palace is cheap
When I get back to my chilly hall room, I'm much too tired to sleep
I'm one of those lady teachers
A beautiful hostess you know
One that the palace features, at exactly a dime a throw
Ten cents a dance, that's what they pay me
Gosh, how they weigh me down
Ten cents a dance, pansies and rough guys
Tough guys who tear my gown
Seven to midnight I hear drums, loudly the saxophone blows
Trumpets are tearing my eardrums, customers crush my toes
Sometimes I think, I've found my hero
But it's a queer romance
All that you need is a ticket
Come on, big boy, ten cents a dance
Fighters and sailors and bow-legged tailors
Can pay for their tickets and rent me
Butchers and barbers and rats from the harbors
Are sweethearts my good luck has sent me
Though I have a chorus of elderly beaus
Stockings are porous with holes at the toes
When I get back to my chilly hall room, I'm much too tired to sleep
I'm one of those lady teachers
A beautiful hostess you know
One that the palace features, at exactly a dime a throw
Ten cents a dance, that's what they pay me
Gosh, how they weigh me down
Ten cents a dance, pansies and rough guys
Tough guys who tear my gown
Seven to midnight I hear drums, loudly the saxophone blows
Trumpets are tearing my eardrums, customers crush my toes
Sometimes I think, I've found my hero
But it's a queer romance
All that you need is a ticket
Come on, big boy, ten cents a dance
Fighters and sailors and bow-legged tailors
Can pay for their tickets and rent me
Butchers and barbers and rats from the harbors
Are sweethearts my good luck has sent me
Though I have a chorus of elderly beaus
Stockings are porous with holes at the toes
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