"Satan at the Movies" is from the album Slow-Burning Fun.  It's one of those orphan songs that is instantly overlooked as soon as it is born, for reasons of being not gregarious enough to hang out with the other kids.  It is perhaps an antisocial piece of writing.

The video is comprised of photos from The Runaway Truck Tour from Austin to Denver by way of central Oregon and Nevada in the summer of 2011, in addition to several live photos from Austin and San Francisco, when I was in my one-man band phase.  Which isn't interesting, but which I mention because one of the photos is a cropped live shot from The Hole in the Wall in Austin.  The phrase "It's a Fun Night for a Nun Fight" is clearly visible on my guitar, and reminds me of the punk-rock song I never got around to writing.

Which isn't true.  Like Mozart, divided by a million, I have written it in my head.  The lyrics are as follows:

It's a fun night!
For a
nun fight!
It's a
fun night!
For a
nun fight!

And I have the rhythm.  I have the lyrics and the shouted, chanting rhythm.  And the title, which is, of course, "It's a Fun Night for a Nun Fight."  But I haven't had the chance to actually write it in reality yet.  I don't think it would take very long.  But it's been over 20 years, and I'm tired of waiting.  So let's make a T-shirt out of it instead.

Or the alternate version, if you prefer.  The alternate doesn't have an apostrophe, but if you've ever been to an underground nun fight, you know that they are brutal affairs, steeped in pugilistic wisdom.  Most of the attendees of underground nun fights aren't thinking about grammar.

So don't worry about it.

There are black-on-white versions of the designs as well.  4 fonts in total.  Click on the text graphics above to take you straight to my Redbubble, for all your Catholic merchandise needs.  Perhaps after the fight, you can take Satan to the movies.

Thanks for listening.

Satan at the Movies

The moon is a broken, rusty lock
and the sky is an open, empty safe
the road is an endless line of credit
there's no one here to bother me,
or keep me safe

The sun is sitting on the sofa
waiting for the matinee to begin
it strikes me as exceedingly ridiculous,
then I look in the mirror and think,
"but then again,"

     And that's when I,
     like a bird in the sky,
     start pouring my heart out
     over the tops
     of all the trees
     unleashing a torrent
     so beautiful and abhorrent,
     the whole world is ecstatic
     to the point that it is difficult to breathe

The wind is full of footsteps
and it's pounding on the door
I'm talking to the cactus
I'm talking to the floor

And I'm wearing all the curtains
off my shoulder like a cape
the economy is on to me
but my will will not escape

A mysterious pool of blood from my latest masterpiece
is leaking
Satan is a movie star,
relatively speaking

I've heard your proposals
I've listened to your schemes
I've done my time
inside your non-existent dreams

Now I'm sitting at the counter
eating a plate of imaginary fries
there's a thin layer of dust
over everybody's eyes

All the angels up in Heaven
are revvin' their engines
when the checkered flag falls,
the cops will scatter like pigeons

©2009 Nathan Payne