Lyrics: Willie Tyson.
Tune: Willie Tyson.
Get your gold lamé slippers from the closet, the one your mama bought for you today.
Get that lavender chiffon thing you wanted. I can’t believe the price I had to pay.
Get dressed up like a queen, now, and don’t forget them fancy pearls. Meet me directly in the hall.
I’m takin’ my fine-bred, Southern daughter girl out to the Debutante Ball.
The Debutante Ball is my favorite function. It happens every year about this time.
It coincides with our local Cattle Auction, the best breedin’ stock in the country all in line.
I run back and forth between the Auction and the Ball, thinkin’, “Sherwood, ain’t you lucky? Ain’t you fine?
The best cows on four legs and the prettiest gals on two ain’t nobody else’s but mine.”
Get your gold lamé halter from the tack room, the one you won all them ribbons in last spring.
You’ve been a winner in your time, Old Red Satin, but since you had them three calves, you ain’t won a thing.
Brush up your hide, now, and don’t forget to trim your hooves. Leave behind you a clean stall.
I’m gonna drop you off at the Cattle Auction, on my way to the Debutante Ball.
This year’s Ball is quite a splendid occasion. I’m standing here in great anticipation,
As the time nears for my little girl to walk the line. What’s this I see a-clompin’ up to me,
A-stompin’ and a-sheddin’ all over the hall? My God, it’s Red Satin!
How, how, how, how could this have happened? It’s my cow at the Debutante Ball!
Yes, fools are made by men, and when we come through again,
There’ll be no more Auctions, no more Debutante Balls.