My wife Nora and I were discussing the probability of life after death whilst sitting on the beach in Nerja, Southern Spain in September 1995. After all, what else do you do on the beach? A very dear friend of ours, Neal Bradley, had died unexpectedly, six months previously, of meningitis. I had spoken to him only hours before he died, unaware of the seriousness of his complaint. His death was a great shock to me and the many friends who loved him. Here I was six months later, still going through the process of grieving, when this song suddenly over a period of 24 hours appeared on paper. I sometimes wonder if Bradley wrote this song through me as proof that another life after death is awaiting us all. The first line has been borrowed from the Aztecs the second from the Romans. But I've been told not to worry as it is unlikely they will come back asking for royalties .....least not in this life!



The mighty streams that find the sea start humbly in the hills,

The passing hours they wound us so, the last one simply kills,

Friends I've known have moved away, they all have run their race,

They've left me here to ponder on, about a better place,

And if there is a reason and a purpose to it all,

I'm sure they will be waiting when I turn to greet the call.


For time is an illusion, that spans the great divide,

It washes our emotion in an ever changing tide,

Space is a reality that none can understand,

Distance is a conjuror, with a crafty sleight of hand,

But none of these have credit where the souls of dead folk sing,

For deaths dimensions leave them with a new awakening.


And what of you my trusted friend, what made you choose to go,

Had your river run it's course, were the currents just too slow,

Does time stand still can distance fill, the void you left behind,

Why is it the gentle ones who leave before their time?

And if there is a heaven then there is a certainty,

That the chorus has been strengthened since you joined the Entity.


© Joe Stead - Fore Lane Music - September 1995

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