from by Thad Bradley



Feeling like a brooding Irishman on this one. In a cold and senseless world, love is our savior.


We decorate our humble nests with hammocks in which we'll never rest. We polish up with paint and spit our adirondacks we won't sit Oh how I long for something whole to purify and fill my soul so hold my hand and come and sit I have a feeling you are it. We say that man must love his bride - words by which we don't abide we raise our children by the book - the one we threw into the brook. Oh how I wish that we could be somewhere close to purity, but sometimes you make me believe that something good still lives in me. We go to church to seek the truth in polished shoes and fitted suits amidst the neighbors we neglect we'll speak the words we'll soon forget Oh how I long to feel the pull of something deep and beautiful. I think I know what it could be - the love of you inside of me. We're brought into this world to die, no wiser than when we arrived. Our fathers fathers fought the wars, we'll follow suit forever more. Oh how I wish I'd hear the call of something greater than us all. Until that day I'm glad to be holding you right next to me.


from Better Late, released January 1, 2015
Words and music Thad Bradley
Thad Bradley: acoustic and electric guitars, drums, keyboards, vocals
Pete Peltier: acoustic guitar, bass
Mastered by Jim Grant, Chicken Little Recording Studio



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Thad Bradley Rock Hill, South Carolina

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