adventures in dysthymia

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

PICKLE

I thought it would be a piece of cake,
as easy as pie, make no mistake,
but life is hard and fate is fickle --
now I'm in a pickle!
How did I end up where I am,
to get myself in such a jam?
Tried to change but I'm short a nickel
and now I'm in a pickle!

Oh, I'm in a pickle,
yes, I'm in a pickle;
I reached a fork in my rocky road
when my piece of the pie came a la mode,
I guess I reaped no more than I sowed --
yes, I'm in a pickle!

When he plants, each man supposes
everything will come up roses,
but those roses sure can prickle;
now I'm in a pickle!
I poured some chicken soup for my soul;
you came along and punched a hole.
Now it's slowed down to a trickle
and I'm in a pickle!

Oh, I'm in a pickle, etc

I sipped champagne till you burst my bubbles;
now I have a glass half-full of troubles.
It's all gone flat when it used to tickle;
now I'm in a pickle!
If life were just a bowl of cherries,
the apple of his eye is who a man marries;
but it's true, life can be fickle,
and I'm in a pickle!

Oh, I'm in a pickle, etc.

Stephen Brooke ©2010

Another somewhat silly song, albeit a bit more ambitious and crafted than the last I posted. There was a generic sort of tune going through my head as I wrote this but I may attempt to work up something with a tad greater originality. The idea, of course, was to play around with an array of cliched phrases. Btw, this is first-drafty and subject to change.

addendum: if some of this seems familiar, it's because I posted a poem last year using some of the same phrases and ideas.

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