Here is the tale, it's spoken word-for-word,
it may be abominable, but, yes it must be heard.
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 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.