6 Outta 9 w​/​Beats

by Adam Balbo

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    Four-panel booklet compact disc. Artwork by Helen Lee.

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released December 14, 2006

Mixed and mastered by Kit Smith in Emeryville, CA.




Adam Balbo Oakland, California

Get in touch about anything. adambalbo at gmail dot com

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Track Name: Long, Quick Tango

i wanted to write some kinda song
not sure what its about, but make it kinda long
there'll be some drama, suspense & lots of rhymes
& awesome like when marty mcfly traveled through time
give me your attention & i'll give you my words
i'll come up with the adjectives, the nouns & the verbs
pick your poison & grab your herb
what was once the voice of reason will now sound absurb
forget that we are members of the monkey herd
this better be good, christ, there's a while to go
oh, this is just the start of the long, quick tango

i'm a little chatterbox, short & stout
if you can find my handle, you can pour me out
sit back, relax, while i try to figure out
what it is exactly this song'll be about
submit while i pick the shit you gonna hear
buy a beer, you know here you are among peers
i'm 10% mouth, but the rest of me is ears
ask pat to bake a cake as fast as he can
he'll either make you really hungry or american
lay the flying radical over the thing for rice
i'm not sure what that means, but i thought it sounded nice
most anything'll go with the long, quick tango

i woke up this morning with your armpit in my face
there was faint BO, mixed with that tampon taste
morning breathe & dried lube which was caked
on my penis, naught between us, when you queefed in my face
today might be the day we quit the human race
that hyped-up contest; where we'd come in fifth place
behind the assholes, the hooligans, the proud & disgraced
remember that time in your apartment when
we musta ate something weird & picked corn kernal skins
from around our buttholes - it was a romantic way to begin
its just another verse in the long, quick tango

go ahead kacey use the word "motherfucker" in your song
please just don't do another goddamn epic folk song
there's not enough space to name all the folks to give props
but i just gotta say madonna, bob dylan, stephin merritt & tupac
i listened to eminem once for 2 solid months; i became an asshole but i grew more nuts
i have some inclination but not too much to smile some cuz only so much anger can be fun
so i'll listen to herman dune & the moldy peaches
& wish i was on one of those warm, sunny beaches
you hear what you like in the long, quick tango

the faces of ideas have hearts, too
they may not always walk right or talk to the same gods you do
but they're people, sure enough, just like me & you
baby, when i'm lonley i'll google you
hanging out on the couch with my friend rita
she's cool but i doubt if you'll ever get to meet her
chillin out smoking hash in beijing
listening to leonard cohen & carlos jobim
talking about pointy shoes & banking policy
& barrels of guns & other tired theories
you can make up the words to the long, quick tango

the statue of liberty is kinda hot
holding that torch she probably gets tired a lot
she's got people-sized eyes & a pretty big heart
but clear the room when she's gotta fart - she's a french chick
count your blessings, lift up your heavy head
i might have been spilled but i was born instead
i don't wanna know what country i'm standing in
but it ain't bound by language, dress, or skin
it ain't dictated by cult, or clan or whim
& there's a public committee gets to discuss sin
you don't need a document to hear the long, quick tango

i'll fail better next time, i promise you
i just gotta lose these world war III blues
a tisket, a tasket; i was born in a basket
i'm thinking something, just not sure how to ask it
yes, i confess, one mouth can make a mess
with sounds big, beautiful & meaningless
if the first sin was not disobedience
it was that lunacy arrogance
this the conversation must not end
i can't decide what's worse: pure pity or plain stubornness
put it all to song; its the long, quick tango