The Day Nathan Saved the World

‘The greatest story never told’ starts with my old friend Rick and myself. We used to study together at the Purdue Undergrad Library a couple nights a week. This regularly resulted in, “let’s grab a couple beers and listen to music”. That turned into an 8 song album—Postcards, Para Postale. we recorded this album in one night the same way we wrote the songs...so they’re sloppy to say the least. A couple of great songs came out of it though, so FM revived them and whipped them into shape. I still remember painfully laughing while we bounced lyric ideas back and forth (so much fun).

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There’s a story my father told me

His father’s, father’s grandfathers mom told him

That we should be grateful to a man

They called Nathan—his name was Matthew

But Nathan fit him best

The day Nathan saved the world—it was a beautiful thing

It was a wonderful, spectacular, marvelous, miracular thing

And we rejoiced—and we began to write a song against our choice

About that story my father told me

I’m sure it’s changed a million times, or that’s just what he said

Nathan in the town of Bismarck

Went around petting cows and pulling babies arms

He got arrested one Sunday morning

For selling prophylactics one day after church

Sorry that’s not the story

I swallowed and forgot my train of thought

The day Nathan saved the world—it was an edible thing

It was a delicious, delectable, scattered and collectable thing

And we retained—all the love from Nathan that remained

The day Nathan saved the world—it was a tangible thing

It was an absolutely traceable, impossibly erasable thing

And we confess—that we wrote this song under duress

About those condoms, whoops not again

I’m sure it’s changed a million times since then

That we should be grateful to a man

They called Matthew—whoops I mean Nathan

Because my father’s, father’s, father’s grandfathers mom told me so

The day Nathan saved the world—it was a beautiful thing

It was a wonderful, spectacular, marvelous, miracular thing

And we rejoiced—and the song is over, wrote against our choice