BRAD (SONG LYRICS)
THE VERY BEST FRIEND TO ALL
LISTEN HERE: BRAD — SUNO
LISTEN HERE: BRAD — YOUTUBE
Brad had no brothers or sisters, none at all — he was close to being alone, at only eight years old.
Brad always had shiny shoes, spit-polished, and of old fine quality… still looking new.
His shirts were always tucked in, though one side somehow worked its way out before the day was through with him.
Brad wore a necktie, knew all the neighbors by name, and waved whenever they passed by.
He kept a few marbles in his pocket, along with a ball of string, and a few other little handy things.
Brad always sat at the front of the class and wore glassless, dark-rimmed glasses.
No one noticed at first; it all seemed fine. No one noticed a thing — until Brad turned nine.
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He’d say that the room seemed cold, started walking slow… appearing very old.
About his aches and pains, he never would complain. He always laughed when we laughed, then asked if anyone else felt that cold draft.
[CHORUS] Brad carried that rare kind of brilliancy — small in stature yet with the weight of years in his eyes — visibly, differently, implicitly. The sadness in him reflecting a quiet dignity.
He wore a funny hat, recovered from the school’s Lost and Found. He’d ride on the bus, not really going anywhere, just riding around. Sometimes the bus driver would drive two blocks further south, just to let Brad off… right in front of his house.
On Saturdays, he sat while patting his fat calico cat out on his front lawn. Brad would always act tired… it made everyone both laugh and yawn. We all listened quietly while Brad sat in the big chair. He’d tell us stories of nothing, straight from out of thin air.
Brad told of his adventures each day. The way that he’d tell stories made us all want to stay. Sometimes he’d stop in the middle of a story and stare at something unseen, as though remembering a place he had never been.
[CHORUS] Brad carried that rare kind of brilliancy — small in stature yet with the weight of years in his eyes — visibly, differently, implicitly. The sadness in him reflecting a quiet dignity.
We knew Brad treasured every ordinary day — wanting us to never go away, even when he was too weary to play.
Doctors had told him his heart wasn’t strong… that the time he had left wouldn’t be so long.
When he went away, it made us all very sad. Although he always seemed much older, we understood Brad.
… we all understood Brad.
[CHORUS] Brad carried that rare kind of brilliancy — small in stature yet with the weight of years in his eyes — visibly, differently, implicitly. The sadness in him reflecting a quiet dignity.
© 2024 Peter W. Collier
