1886 Pemberton Mixes

Lyrics

[Intro]

John, on Marietta Street, May 8, 1886,
you lean over the counter at Jacobs' Pharmacy,
your hands tremble from the old saber wound.

[Verse 1]
The mortar and pestle in your grip,
grounding coca leaves, kola nuts,
sugar dissolving in the heat of that Atlanta afternoon,
75 degrees outside, but inside, your fever burns.
Confederate veteran, morphine in your veins since '65,
you chase the pain away with this dark syrup.
Frank Robinson watches, his pen curls the name,
Coca-Cola, script flowing like the Chattahoochee.

[Chorus]
Oh, little brass tap at the soda fountain,
pour out the first glass, five cents,
carbonation fizzing soft as a secret,
cocaine extract sharp on the tongue,
vanilla sweet, caramel deep,
you're birthing an empire from this wooden spoon.

[Verse 2]
The ledger book open, ink smudged,
nine glasses that first day, curious faces at the door,
horse-drawn wagons wait outside, barrels ready.
Your wife Ann Eliza, back in Columbus,
doesn't know how this tonic might save you,
or drown you deeper in the addiction's pull.
The pharmacy air thick with syrup's aroma,
medicinal tang lingering like regret.

[Chorus]
Oh, little brass tap at the soda fountain,
pour out the first glass, five cents,
carbonation fizzing soft as a secret,
cocaine extract sharp on the tongue,
vanilla sweet, caramel deep,
you're birthing an empire from this wooden spoon.

[Bridge]

By 1903, the cocaine gone, but the ghost remains,
Pemberton, you sold it all for $2,300 in '88,
died too soon to see the bottles conquer the world.
That unnamed soda jerk, mixing your dream,
their hands forgotten, but the fizz echoes on.

[Outro]

Marietta Street, 2 o'clock shadow on the brick,
the first sip, amber glow in the glass,
Atlanta wakes to your mix, John,
your nerve tonic, forever bubbling.