le mien est maintenant devenu une douce obsession
une pensée constante qui joue dans l'esprit
un vertige qui m'envahit désormais de manière récurrente
une force qui me submerge rien qu'en pensant à toi

Mille fois amour

White lines 

Verse 1 Blue veins, cold sweat, hands on my throat You taste like the devil wrapped up in dope Every breath feels like the last But I’d crawl through hell just to make this last
Pre-Chorus I knew the second you pulled me in You're the high I can't quit, the curse on my skin
Chorus So hit me harder, take me into the deep You’re the chase, you’re the cut, you’re the rush that I need Heart to heart, lost in the thrill Like white lines kissing dollar bills
Verse 2 Hotel sheets, blacked-out dreams, I wake up where we fell Your love’s a fix, a loaded clip, and I take it like a spell No coming down, no walking straight Just one more hit, just one more taste
Pre-Chorus I knew the second you pulled me in You're the high I can't quit, the curse on my skin
Chorus So hit me harder, take me into the deep You’re the chase, you’re the cut, you’re the rush that I need Heart to heart, lost in the thrill Like white lines kissing dollar bills
Bridge Let the sirens cry, I don’t give a damn
I’d bleed, I’d break just to feel your hands
No saving me now—I’m already damned
Outro So hit me harder, take me into the deep You’re the chase, you’re the cut, you’re the rush that I need Heart to heart, lost in the thrill Like white lines kissing dollar bills

Copyright (c) 2025 Lisa Andreou * All Rights Reserved.

White lines

velvet mirage

Your gone forever

Under the moon's cold silver beam
Ghostly fiddles whisper
A chilling dream
Through hollow woods
Where shadows play
The strings ignite
A ghost ballet

Hollow bows pull across with grace
A song of sorrow
A specter's embrace
Through skeletal trees the notes do wail
Echoes of a heart's mournful tale

Phantom strings .mp3

Featured in The 10:40 set playlist
All rights held by the songwriter Edwin H. Balder
Link to more of our Singer/songwriter style hits you can cover into fame because of your take!

https://soundcloud.com/edwin-balder/sets/best-new-folk-americana?si=04e0155163644977b37cf8c0a04f3c53&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing

Happy… To Be Alone

Tyst Snurrande.wav

🌌 Back to You – a heartfelt journey through sound.

This song is about returning to what truly matters.
When the world feels loud, confusing, or lost – there’s always a way back to the One who knows your heart.

🎹 Minimalistic. Emotional. Honest. Just my voice, a piano, and gentle strings – nothing fake, no filter.

If you've ever strayed too far and longed to come home – this one is for you.

— KITKA
🎙️ Vocals, Lyrics & Production: Kitka
📍 Germany ↔ Thailand
🕊️ (c) 2025 All rights reserved

💬 Drop a 🤍 in the comments if this spoke to your soul.

Back to You (432 Hz)

I believe, O Lord, in Your resurrection, I believe, O Lord, in Your victory won.

This album is a journey through the quiet corridors of the human spirit, a collection of deeply personal confessions veiled in literary and philosophical verse. It explores the intricate dance between faith and doubt, the sacred and the profane, and the persistent human yearning for connection amidst frailty.

Old Man and the Mountain Road

Trash Truck Morning

In the shadows of Apache Junction, at the foot of the majestic Superstition Mountains, sits a weathered hacienda. This desert oasis is home to an enigmatic figure, a songwriter whose journey reads like a long, dusty road of honky-tonk bars and college cafeterias. He wasn't chasing fame or glitter; instead, he chose the soul-crushing beauty of music for music's sake.

Years spent hunched over sticky barroom tables and scribbling lyrics on napkins earned him a reputation—not in the spotlight but in the back rooms where deals are made. He wrote melodies that found their way into the hearts of stars who had lost their own muse. He sold his creations for cash, with no recognition, but the whisper of his songs carried the weight of his soul.

Finally, he bought this piece of desert paradise—a stable income from his timeless songs allowed him to live comfortably, if anonymously. Here in this hacienda, with his family beside him and the mountains as his backdrop, he found the peace to write hits under his own name. He chuckled at the irony that now, without chasing fame, he could create music that brought him joy.

In the end, it was never about the spotlight. It was about the journey, the stories, and the songs that wrote themselves through his life. As the sun set behind the Superstitions, casting long shadows over the hacienda, he strummed his guitar and sang—content, unknown, and unburdened by the world's gaze.


Copyright 2019 Edwin H. Balder

I may be dead when fame comes but my real glory was always JULIE & The Kids. Thank you for such love

Happy… To Be Alone

Edwin Balder

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