The Untimely Death Of Brad

Here is the tale

It's spoken word for word

It may be abominable

But yes, it must be told

Nauseating at first

You can expect the worst

So listen closely

As the plot unfolds

I might stretch the truth

May be a little lie

There was a boy named Brad

He played the trumpet and he died

Too young for him to cease

Why?

We haven't got a clue

It's on the Internet

So then it must be true

The untimely death of Brad

How sad it must have been

If you see him anywhere

Remember to console him

I curse the day

I ever met the boy

Only the good die young, they say

The details of his death are vague

Unbelievable it seems

As if his passing was only a dream

Catastrophe, calamity

What will we tell his mother now?

Cataclysmic, a tragic mishap

I just heard that their band is breaking up

I hear his trumpet

His voice rings in my ears

It sometimes seems he's standing very near

I don't believe in ghosts

I've never seen one

But isn't the trumpet playing haunting on this album?

A day that lives in infamy

In horror, we behold

His passing, his memory

But the truth must be told