The Untimely Death Of Brad

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,