Ten Cents A Dance - Ruth Etting

If you've ever seen the movie "They Shoot Horses Don't They?" then you know about the dance marathons of the 1930's, where people who were desperate for money would literally dance until they dropped, the last couple standing being the winner.

There was also another kind of dancing that went on in the days of the Depression. These dances were held in dance halls, where there was a band playing, and women were available for dancing at the price of 10 cents. Sometimes these brief 10 cent dances became the precursor to a more sordid, physical type of transaction. The women who worked in these halls were, for the most part, normal, ordinary women looking to survive in abnormal economic times.

Ruth Etting captured the pathos of these women, and the times in which they lived, in her 1930 recording of the song "Ten Cents A Dance", written by Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart. I couldn't find a video of her singing, but have posted the recording at the bottom of this page. Here are the sad and poignant lyrics to the song;

"Ten Cents a Dance" by Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart

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,
the kind 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 breaking 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 bowlegged tailors
can pay for a ticket and rent me!
Butchers and barbers and rats from the harbors
are sweethearts my good luck has sent me.

Though I've a chorus of elderly beaux ,
stockings are porous with holes in the toes.
I'm there till closing time,
Dance and be merry, it's only a dime.

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 breaking 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.