Nun filking

[Joe Jack Onassis]

Beads and Motorcycles  (to the tune of "Speeding Motorcycle" by Daniel Fucking Johnston)

Beads and motorcycles, she's a strange Bea
Beads and motorcycles, she's a strange Bea
In a world of deadly changes
Beads and motorcycles, she's a strange Bea
Beads and motorcycles, so bizarre
Beads and motorcycles; getting stranger, Bea
Beads and motorcycles, rosary necklace, Bea
Beads and motorcycles, so bizarre
Black Rider attacked you late one night
But you showed no fright and your power shone out
No, no, no
Beads and motorcycles, so bizarre
Beads and motorcycles, slight depart
'Cause you didn't want to ride but
You've got a little skill
Hope that you don't break your neck
Or even get killed
Beads and motorcycles; God, she's in awe
Beads and motorcycles, fuck helmet laws
We find an orphan child and we know your gonna grab it
Ride down the highway with the wind in your habit
Beads and motorcycles, there's nothing you can't do
Beads and motorcycles, Jesus loves you
Beads and motorcycles, let's just go
Beads and motorcycles
Let's go let's go let's go
Oo oo

[Joe Jack Onassis]

Sworn as His Child  (to the tune of Steppenwolf's "Born to be Wild")

Motorcycle nun is
Headin' down the highway
Looking for adventure
Kills whatever comes her way

Sick children
Have a change that's happenin'
Hold that child in a love embrace
Give that empty syringe a plunge as
Life goes out of its face

Rides a hog--so frightening
Flowin' leather habit
No longer has to answer
To an abbess or an abbot

Sick children
Have a change that's happenin'
Hold that child in a love embrace
Give that empty syringe a plunge as
Life goes out of its face

Though her acts sure are not mild
She's still sworn
Sworn as His child
'Shroom cloud in the sky
Won't let His word die

Sworn as His child
Sworn as His child
 
Sick children
Have a change that's happenin'
Hold that child in a love embrace
Give that empty syringe a plunge as
Life goes out of its face

Though her acts sure are not mild
She's still sworn
Sworn as His child
'Shroom cloud in the sky
Won't let His word die

Sworn as His child
Sworn as His child

[Johnny The Cook]

Great filk! That will make me stop contemplating the same song...

[hoa nguyen]

Two exceptional filks, sir.

[Joe Jack Onassis]

Nun (to the tune of "Gun" by Gil Scott-Heron)

Sister Bea nowadays carries a stiletto
Now that danger's sure undead
You sneak up on her late at night
And can be described as a wight
Well, I lay you 9 to 5 your last rites been read

Sister Bea she aint 'fraid of bikers
She's drivin' her own hog just for fun
She's part of a holy sect
She got stray children to protect
She sure aint meek, she's a killer bad-ass nun

Joe Jack got a .357
Buck he got a .45
And the rest of them all carry
Some weapon from the armory
While the other folks trust their guns, her trust's divine

This is a shady civilization
Folks runnin' scam right after scam
Every soul that she can save, mon
Finds itself a new depraved con
Gets to that point where Bea don't give a damn

She don't carry that Saturday Night Special
Yeah, for her firearms seem absurd
Any of us may die tonight
She trusts what the disciples write
Knows what she's read, she got it in her head, about His word

Joe Jack got a .357
Buck he got a .45
And the rest of them all carry
Some weapon from the armory
While the other folks trust their guns, her trust's divine
Trust-trust's divine, trust-trust's divine

She don't carry that Saturday Night Special
She looked that Black Rider in his face
Yes, we were both about to die
She looked that Rider in his eye
She burned his shit and then we split, she used God's grace

Joe Jack got a .357
Buck he got a .45
And the rest of them all carry
Some weapon from the armory
While the other folks trust their guns, her trust's divine

Now we're rollin' down the highway
Sister's habit's blowin' free
Ridin' in our usual line up
All part of His grand design, yup
Everybody, everybody, everybody, everybody, everybody
Everybody gotta diddly-yap

And the rest of them all carry
Some weapon from the armory
While the other folks trust their guns, her trust's divine

[hoa nguyen]

WHITEY ON MY POON (Sung to the tune of “Whitey on the Moon” by Gil Scott-Heron)

I’m just trying to survive
But Whitey’s on my poon
I wouldn’t if he was the last man alive
Still, Whitey’s on my poon

Getting chased down by biker thugs
But Whitey’s on my poon
Must be hopped up on some drugs
That Whitey on my poon, ya know?

Barely getting enough to eat
But Whitey’s on my poon
Ribs are showing and I’m feeling weak
And Whitey is on my poon

I wonder why he's stalking me?
Ol’ Whitey on my poon
I hear Johnny gives love for free
Even to Whitey on my poon

Sandmen stalking our every move
Mudd City mayor got something to prove
I ain’t bathed in a couple weeks
And as if all that crap wasn't enough

I’m just trying to survive
But Whitey’s on my poon
I wouldn’t if he was the last man alive
Still, Whitey’s on my poon

I don’t need a redneck pet
Now Whitey’s on my poon
Behind the ears he’s still wet
Hmmm, Whitey on my poon

Ya know, I need to scavenge hard
While Whitey’s on my poon
Find a blow-up doll for this tard
Give it as a gift to…
Whitey on my poon

[Joe Jack Onassis]

Actually, I'm not all that fond of dried poon.

[hoa nguyen]

Actually, I'm not all that fond of dried poon.

Oh, then you wouldn't want any of mine. It's so dry I queef dust.

Maybe you should turn your affections to... um... Oprah, or if you're feeling kinky, Sister Bea.

[Joe Jack Onassis]

One minute she's bitching that I bother her, the next she won't leave me alone.  All I'm doing is filking about how bad ass it is to have a biker nun and she starts back up.  I don't understand why Hoa is so fixated on my sex life.  It's like she has a one-track mind or something.  This isn't Viet Nam, Hoa.  Just 'cause I'm a white guy with a gun doesn't mean I can take you outta here when this is all over.  Sorry, pumpkin, but I'm busy with grown folk stuff these days.

[hoa nguyen]

One minute she's bitching that I bother her, the next she won't leave me alone.  All I'm doing is filking about how bad ass it is to have a biker nun and she starts back up.  I don't understand why Hoa is so fixated on my sex life.  It's like she has a one-track mind or something.  This isn't Viet Nam, Hoa.  Just 'cause I'm a white guy with a gun doesn't mean I can take you outta here when this is all over.  Sorry, pumpkin, but I'm busy with grown folk stuff these days.

If "grown-folk stuff" means you're done stalking and harassing, then I'm more than happy to see you finally grow up. Maybe you can salvage a Bic razor somewhere in the wasteland and get rid of that peach fuzz on your upper lip.

[Joe Jack Onassis]

If "grown-folk stuff" means you're done stalking and harassing, then I'm more than happy to see you finally grow up. Maybe you can salvage a Bic razor somewhere in the wasteland and get rid of that peach fuzz on your upper lip.

Look, Lotus Blossom.  I don't know what your ancient Chinese secret to love is, but it isn't working out for you.  I'm just mindin' my own over here and the next thing I know I got 1/3rd of Shonen Knife trying to ride on my rocket.  I know your people love them some boats, but this ship has set sail, Banh Bao.

[Joe Jack Onassis]

Your Delusion Will Not Be Realized  (to the tune of Gil Scott Heron's "The Revolution Will Not Be Televised")

You will not be able to play house, sister.
You will not be able to kick back, roll up and smoke out.
You will not be able to lose yourself in cigs and soaps,
Waiting for Joe Jack to bring home the bacon
Because your delusion will not be realized

Your delusion will not be realized
Your delusion will not be brought to you by Hallmark
In 4 cards with cpre-printed sentiments.
Your delusion will not bring forth pictures of Children
Smiling at birthdays, comments of "Eyes like Joe Jack,
Hair like Hoa" and a little robot stomach chock full of
Nem Nuong confiscated from Johnny's pantry.
Your delusion will not be realized

Your delusion will not be brought to you by the
Wortham Theater Center and will not star Audrey
Hepburn and Mickey Rooney as a little Asian man.
Your delusion will not give Uma's face it's skin back.
Your delusion will not get rid of Johnny's nub.
Your delusion will not make Clem's IQ
Five points higher, because your delusion will not be realized, Sister

There will be no pictures of you and Joe Jack
Kicking back, soaking up rays in front of that dead sun,
or taking a Sunday drive in a stolen Snow-cat.
No ski trips in the nuclear winter of 2010
No knick-knacks from 29 Stuckey's.
Your delusion will not be realized

There will be no pictures of Clem shooting down
zombies in the instant replay.
There will be no pictures of Clem shooting down
brothers in the instant replay.
There will be no pictures of Osterman being
run out of Mud City on a rail by a brand new mayor.
There will be no slow motion or still life of Buck
Turgeson strolling through Taos in an authentic
Full Indian headdress that he had been saving
For just the proper occasion.

Public Enemy, The Wu-Tang Clan, and The Ghetto
Boys will no longer be so damned relevant, and
No one will even care if Johnny really got down with
Oprah in the fallout shelter because Black people
Are just another welcome face these days.
Your delusion will not be realized

There will be no highlights in your long black
hair and no pictures of coffee-skinned half-Asian
Preschoolers and Joe Jack Onassis blowing you kisses.
Our wedding vows will not be written by Sister Bea,
The unitarians or ourselves, nor will our wedding feature white
Doves, a four-tiered cake or Uma catching the bouquet.
Your delusion will not be realized

The revolution will not be come around after a message
bbout a white stalker, white pervert, or white devil.
You will not have to worry about a tiger in your
bedroom, a bun in your oven, or the mug shot in your permanent record.
Your delusion will not get better with a toke.
Your delusion will not fight the zombies that may cause slow death.
Your delusion will put you in the banana seat.

Your delusion will not be realized, will not be realized,
will not be realized, will not be realized.
Your delusion will be no rising sun romance;
Your delusion's just a lie.

[hoa nguyen]

Your Delusion Will Not Be Realized  (to the tune of Gil Scott Heron's "The Revolution Will Not Be Televised")

You will not be able to play house, sister.
You will not be able to kick back, roll up and smoke out.
You will not be able to lose yourself in cigs and soaps,
Waiting for Joe Jack to bring home the bacon
Because your delusion will not be realized

Your delusion will not be realized
Your delusion will not be brought to you by Hallmark
In 4 cards with cpre-printed sentiments.
Your delusion will not bring forth pictures of Children
Smiling at birthdays, comments of "Eyes like Joe Jack,
Hair like Hoa" and a little robot stomach chock full of
Nem Nuong confiscated from Johnny's pantry.
Your delusion will not be realized

Your delusion will not be brought to you by the
Wortham Theater Center and will not star Audrey
Hepburn and Mickey Rooney as a little Asian man.
Your delusion will not give Uma's face it's skin back.
Your delusion will not get rid of Johnny's nub.
Your delusion will not make Clem's IQ
Five points higher, because your delusion will not be realized, Sister

There will be no pictures of you and Joe Jack
Kicking back, soaking up rays in front of that dead sun,
or taking a Sunday drive in a stolen Snow-cat.
No ski trips in the nuclear winter of 2010
No knick-knacks from 29 Stuckey's.
Your delusion will not be realized

There will be no pictures of Clem shooting down
zombies in the instant replay.
There will be no pictures of Clem shooting down
brothers in the instant replay.
There will be no pictures of Osterman being
run out of Mud City on a rail by a brand new mayor.
There will be no slow motion or still life of Buck
Turgeson strolling through Taos in an authentic
Full Indian headdress that he had been saving
For just the proper occasion.

Public Enemy, The Wu-Tang Clan, and The Ghetto
Boys will no longer be so damned relevant, and
No one will even care if Johnny really got down with
Oprah in the fallout shelter because Black people
Are just another welcome face these days.
Your delusion will not be realized

There will be no highlights in your long black
hair and no pictures of coffee-skinned half-Asian
Preschoolers and Joe Jack Onassis blowing you kisses.
Our wedding vows will not be written by Sister Bea,
The unitarians or ourselves, nor will our wedding feature white
Doves, a four-tiered cake or Uma catching the bouquet.
Your delusion will not be realized

The revolution will not be come around after a message
bbout a white stalker, white pervert, or white devil.
You will not have to worry about a tiger in your
bedroom, a bun in your oven, or the mug shot in your permanent record.
Your delusion will not get better with a toke.
Your delusion will not fight the zombies that may cause slow death.
Your delusion will put you in the banana seat.

Your delusion will not be realized, will not be realized,
will not be realized, will not be realized.
Your delusion will be no rising sun romance;
Your delusion's just a lie.

<Out of character>: Fucking brilliant!

[Joe Jack Onassis]

<Out of character>: Fucking brilliant!

Thanks, that one was really hard to do!

[hoa nguyen]

<Out of character>: Fucking brilliant!

Thanks, that one was really hard to do!

I bet. And you don't wanna screw up anything that iconic!