Ballad of Blue Balls Bob the Balloon Man

bluegrass dubstep, electro-folk, comedic/novelty (wobble/half-time) dance music

[Intro: banjo lick, balloon squeaks, sub-bass rumble, crowd claps]
Gather round now.
Lock your doors.
Warn your daughters.
Clear the floors.

Here comes Bob
from the county fair,
with a balloon-dog grin
Just full of hot air.

[female backing vocals]
 (Oh no, Bob.)
 (No, Bob, no.)

[Verse 1: sparse bluegrass groove, banjo forward, upright slap]
Blue Balls Bob came struttin’ in,
boots all shine and a rubber grin.
Made balloon dogs for birthday pay,
then tried that charm on ladies all day.

He could twist a poodle,
he could twist a swan,
but he twisted every sentence wrong.
Said he had charm like a loaded gun,
but the safety broke
and the ammo was dumb.

He tipped his hat to a woman named Sue,
said, “Girl, them eyes make my  balloons go pop”
Sue said, “Then put it back inside.
Even the donkey is hollerin' stop.”

He leaned on the bar and winked at a lass,
His foot slipped out and smacked his ass.
Got up proud like he meant that flop,
said, “That's ma swagger, gimme a shot?”

[female backing vocals]
 (That ain’t smooth.)
 (That’s a spill.)
 (That boy needs a muzzle and some social skill.)

[Pre-Chorus: claps tighten, fiddle chops, balloon squeak rhythm]
He had no filter,
no pause, no shame.
Every bad idea
Like a lighter with no flame.

He’d pump up trouble,
then call it fate.
But the whole room knows
Bob's brain don't wait.

[Chorus: full beatgrass hook, stomp-clap anthem, female call-response]
Blue Balls Bob,
better give it a rest.
You got a ten-gallon mouth
and a thimble of sense.

Blue Balls Bob,
you keep swingin’ at air.
Every woman in town
left you standing right there.

You talk like thunder,
land like fog.
Ain’t no lover,
just a loud monologue.

Blue Balls Bob,
twist that dog.
The dance card's full,
but not for Bob.

[female backing vocals]
 (Not for Bob.)
 (No, not Bob.)
 (All pump, no charm, and a sad balloon dog.)

Verse 2: bouncy groove, fiddle answers punchlines]
He saw Miss Mabel by the lemonade,
said, “I’m cool and fresh. You wanna take a drink?”
Mabel said, “God no, Bob.
Is there dirt in your eye,
or you tryin’ to wink?”

He tried sweet talk on Jenny Lou,
said, “I make giraffes
with these nimble hands.”
Jenny said, “Great.
Make yourself
a personality,
if you can.”

He told Pearl, “I’m a bad idea,
but I always got a ride.”
Pearl said, “So does Bubbles,
and he keeps
his thoughts inside.”

[female backing vocals]
(Wrong, wrong, wrong.)
(Chorus wrong.)
(Man got rejected by the whole damn song.)

[Build: electronic riser, banjo stutters, balloon squeaks chopped into rhythm]
Bob said, “Ladies, please,
you misunderstand.”
Then pulled out a balloon
and a half-baked plan.

He twisted once.
He twisted twice.
Turned it into a obscene device.
Turned the mood in the room to ice.

[female backing vocals: whispered]
 (No.)
 (Nope.)
 (Never.)
  (Absolutely not.)

[Bass Drop: heavy half-time dubstep, balloon squeaks chopped into wobble rhythm]
BLUE BALLS BOB!

* squeak squeak pop *

No filter!
No game!
No chance!
No shame!

BLUE BALLS BOB!

wub wub squeak

Big hat!
Small talk!
Wrong move!
Long walk!

[female backing vocals: gang chant]
 (No means no.)
 (Let it go.)
 (Take that pump and hit the road.)

[Bridge: stripped banjo and sub drone, brief false sincerity]
For half a breath,
Bob saw the light.
Maybe charm ain’t charm
when it gives the ladies fright.

Maybe words need gates.
Maybe thoughts need brakes.
Maybe women ain’t balloons
for a man to reshape.

Then Sally walked past
in a silver dress.
{male singer]
Bob said, “Girrrrrl, I can fix your stress.”

[female singer]
Sally said, “Look Bob... I'm sorry to say, but ... you ARE the stress."

[Final Chorus: bigger, faster banjo, full gang vocals, wobble bass answers hook]
Blue Balls Bob,
better give it a rest.
You got a ten-gallon mouth
and a thimble of sense.

Blue Balls Bob,
you keep swingin’ at air.
Every woman in town
left you standing right there.

You talk like thunder,
land like fog.
Ain’t no lover,
just a loud monologue.

Blue Balls Bob,
twist that dog.
The dance card's full,
but not for Bob.

[female backing vocals: call-response]
 (Not for Bob.)
 (No, not Bob.)
 (All pump, no charm, and a sad balloon dog.)

Blue Balls Bob,
learn one thing.
A shut mouth shines
like more than diamond bling.

Blue Balls Bob,
take the lesson and run.
Consent ain’t a riddle,
and charm ain’t a gun.

4708/7500

[genre: bluegrass-dubstep, beatgrass, backwoods bass, EDM] [style: twangy, filthy bass, county-fair chaos, satirical, danceable] [mood: cocky, awkward, funny, humiliating, rowdy] [tempo: fast bluegrass picking over heavy half-time dubstep pulse] [instruments: banjo rolls, chopped fiddle, upright bass slap, stomps, claps, 808 sub-bass, wobble bass, half-time drums, balloon squeaks, rubber pops] [Intro: banjo lick, balloon squeaks, sub-bass rumble, crowd claps] Gather round now. Lock your doors. Warn your daughters. Clear the floors. Here comes Bob from the county fair, with a balloon-dog grin Just full of hot air. [female backing vocals] (Oh no, Bob.) (No, Bob, no.) [Verse 1: sparse bluegrass groove, banjo forward, upright slap] Blue Balls Bob came struttin’ in, boots all shine and a rubber grin. Made balloon dogs for birthday pay, then tried that charm on ladies all day. He could twist a poodle, he could twist a swan, but he twisted every sentence wrong. Said he had charm like a loaded gun, but the safety broke and the ammo was dumb. He tipped his hat to a woman named Sue, said, “Girl, them eyes make my balloons go pop” Sue said, “Then put it back inside. Even the donkey is hollerin' stop.” He leaned on the bar and winked at a lass, His foot slipped out and smacked his ass. Got up proud like he meant that flop, said, “That's ma swagger, gimme a shot?” [female backing vocals] (That ain’t smooth.) (That’s a spill.) (That boy needs a muzzle and some social skill.) [Pre-Chorus: claps tighten, fiddle chops, balloon squeak rhythm] He had no filter, no pause, no shame. Every bad idea Like a lighter with no flame. He’d pump up trouble, then call it fate. But the whole room knows Bob's brain don't wait. [Chorus: full beatgrass hook, stomp-clap anthem, female call-response] Blue Balls Bob, better give it a rest. You got a ten-gallon mouth and a thimble of sense. Blue Balls Bob, you keep swingin’ at air. Every woman in town left you standing right there. You talk like thunder, land like fog. Ain’t no lover, just a loud monologue. Blue Balls Bob, twist that dog. The dance card's full, but not for Bob. [female backing vocals] (Not for Bob.) (No, not Bob.) (All pump, no charm, and a sad balloon dog.) Verse 2: bouncy groove, fiddle answers punchlines] He saw Miss Mabel by the lemonade, said, “I’m cool and fresh. You wanna take a drink?” Mabel said, “God no, Bob. Is there dirt in your eye, or you tryin’ to wink?” He tried sweet talk on Jenny Lou, said, “I make giraffes with these nimble hands.” Jenny said, “Great. Make yourself a personality, if you can.” He told Pearl, “I’m a bad idea, but I always got a ride.” Pearl said, “So does Bubbles, and he keeps his thoughts inside.” [female backing vocals] (Wrong, wrong, wrong.) (Chorus wrong.) (Man got rejected by the whole damn song.) [Build: electronic riser, banjo stutters, balloon squeaks chopped into rhythm] Bob said, “Ladies, please, you misunderstand.” Then pulled out a balloon and a half-baked plan. He twisted once. He twisted twice. Turned it into a obscene device. Turned the mood in the room to ice. [female backing vocals: whispered] (No.) (Nope.) (Never.) (Absolutely not.) [Bass Drop: heavy half-time dubstep, balloon squeaks chopped into wobble rhythm] BLUE BALLS BOB! * squeak squeak pop * No filter! No game! No chance! No shame! BLUE BALLS BOB! wub wub squeak Big hat! Small talk! Wrong move! Long walk! [female backing vocals: gang chant] (No means no.) (Let it go.) (Take that pump and hit the road.) [Bridge: stripped banjo and sub drone, brief false sincerity] For half a breath, Bob saw the light. Maybe charm ain’t charm when it gives the ladies fright. Maybe words need gates. Maybe thoughts need brakes. Maybe women ain’t balloons for a man to reshape. Then Sally walked past in a silver dress. {male singer] Bob said, “Girrrrrl, I can fix your stress.” [female singer] Sally said, “Look Bob... I'm sorry to say, but ... you ARE the stress." [Final Chorus: bigger, faster banjo, full gang vocals, wobble bass answers hook] Blue Balls Bob, better give it a rest. You got a ten-gallon mouth and a thimble of sense. Blue Balls Bob, you keep swingin’ at air. Every woman in town left you standing right there. You talk like thunder, land like fog. Ain’t no lover, just a loud monologue. Blue Balls Bob, twist that dog. The dance card's full, but not for Bob. [female backing vocals: call-response] (Not for Bob.) (No, not Bob.) (All pump, no charm, and a sad balloon dog.) Blue Balls Bob, learn one thing. A shut mouth shines like more than diamond bling. Blue Balls Bob, take the lesson and run. Consent ain’t a riddle, and charm ain’t a gun.

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