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Pickled Pink

Pickled Pink

Pickled Pink

Jerry wobbles to his feet and heads toward the gent's room. I have to chuckle as I watch him stagger through the crowd. Whoever is in his way had better be good at a quick dodge.

Trouble is, I'd be the one to have to clean it up.

Brad and Tina have been here since nine thirty. As usual, Markus is next to Tina, occassionally holding her hand beneath the table.

They have an arrangement like no other I've seen. Brad suffers from diabetes and his overall health is failing. I've seen him deteriorate from a star quarterback to a shell of that athlete I once cheered to victory.

After Markus' wife died in the boating accident last spring, Tina began helping out around Markus' place. They said at first it was to assist him in the day to day chores of household maintenance.

I don't know, but... people talk...

I have heard plenty of rumours. Still, no one wants to hurt Brad. He's a good man, despite what afflictions life and love have handed him.

Sharing Her

There at the end of the bar
Stands a half empty jar
Rosey spheres in the brine
Pickled pink from the wine

Swirlin’ on this bar stool
A lone romantic old fool
Reachin’ for love and eggs too
Gettin’ pickled pink over you


Pickled pink through and through
A mem’ry, egg, and a brew
Wash down a ‘nuthern or two
See what hard boiled mem’ry'll do

Pickled pink through and through
Poachin’ a mem’ry of you
Scrambled, fried, and confused...
Sure beats the taste of the Blues

end chorus

So I sit here at the bar
Think ‘bout the eggs in the jar
They’re only pickled in wine
Me, I’m pickled in time

I sit here thinking of us
And how I raised such a fuss
Did what you said I would do
Got pickled thinking ‘bout you


Lyrics Copyright 1998-2000 by

W Paul Cary

CARCEN Productions