Alabama ball / words by Wm. Hallen Falls music by Al. W. Beatty
Beatty, Al W. “Alabama ball / words by Wm. Hallen Falls music by Al. W. Beatty.” Digital Gallery. BGSU University Libraries, 16 June 2020, digitalgallery.bgsu.edu/collections/item/17167. Accessed 15 May 2021.
|Title||Alabama ball / words by Wm. Hallen Falls music by Al. W. Beatty|
|Subject||Popular music -- 1911-1920|
|Alabama -- Songs and music|
|Description||For voice and piano|
|Caption title: Cover illustration by Terry Engraving Co., Columbus, O|
|Cover photo of Hallen & Hunter|
|Creator||Beatty, Al W|
|Source||Sheet Music Collection; Music Library and Bill Schurk Sound Archives; University Libraries; Bowling Green State University|
|Publisher||Columbus, Oh. : R.C. Young Music Co.|
|Contributor||Falls, William Hallen, Lyricist.|
|Alternative Title||First line of text: Get your beau and let's go down to that Alabama town;First line of chorus: Take me to that Alabama ball|
VERSE 01: Get your beau and let's go down to that Alabama town/ Get ready for some dancin' syncopated prancin'/ let your feet go wild,/ Baby child, look-a-here, look-a-here, come and love me too/ Just keep a wooin', keep swayin' to the left and right/ O honey don't let your feet feel light/ I know your knees are saggin' but keep on a raggin'/ we can't stop to rest Honey mine,/ aint it fine, keep in line I like it best.
CHORUS: Take me to that Alabama Ball,/ Come on ma honey/ Can't you hear that music's sooth in call,/ I've got the money,/ Get your feet a movin' to that music grand/ Classiest of symphonies that's in the land/ Hear the banjo strum, listen to that drum,/ Turkey trottin' isn't in it/ Glidin', slidin', dancin' round the floor,/ It sure is rippin',/ Soon you'll ask the leaderman for more,/ To keep you dippin'/ want to keep a dancin' till the roosters crow/ Want to teach the folks to do the heel and toe,/ Dancin' at that Alabama ball.
VERSE 02: See the pick-a-ninnies run goin' to be there for the fun/ And soon you'll hear them yellin' pass the watermelon/ each one gets a slice, Off the ice,/ aint it nice, pass it twice, just like Paradise/ Just keep a passin' we'll never think of goin' home/ Till Jasper plays upon his comb/ there will be more hoppin' 'till their corns start poppin'/ see them dance around/ Side by side, see them glide, trombones slide, they're homeward bound.
|Original Format||1 score (4 p.) 34 cm|