Rebel in the South

Till I Found You

Same Song and Dance

Under My Skin

One Night In Dallas

Last pull: 5 22 25...
Last Light  by songwriter Edwin H. Balder

Smoke fades slow, fingers trace 

One last pull, one last place 

Memory hums like a lost refrain 

Where does the fire go when it rains?Woodstock dust, college nights 

Aberky halls where words took flight 

A voice too wild, a dream too wide 

Music rolling like an endless tideWrote for the stars, played for the road 

Set the songs where the highways flowed 

Found a family laid it down 

Hoped one day I’d come back aroundBut I can’t take a toke can’t chase the haze 

Can’t find the echo in old-school ways 

Got the stories got the songs 

Still got the fire even if it’s goneVegas lights Tennessee bars 

Hands that moved through steel-string scars 

Some burned bright some burned out 

Some left whispers some left doubtTurned the page, turned the time 

Lived a life too bold to rhyme 

Now I sit where the past once fell 

Staring deep at the last light in the wellBut I can’t take a toke, can’t chase the haze 

Can’t find the echo in old-school ways 

Got the stories got the songs 

Still got the fire even if it’s goneDid I leave too soon did I wait too long 

Did I lose my way did I lose my song 

If I step back if I play true 

Would the road remember me tooOne last chorus one last tune One last echo under the moonOne last fire one last spell 

A song still burning in the last light in the wellBut I can’t take a toke can’t chase the haze 

Can’t find the echo in old-school ways 

Got the stories got the songs 

Still got the fire even if it’s goneSmoke fades slow fingers trace 

One.... last ...pull, one.... last..... place 

Link to best of our country hits that you can cover to get to the top... https://soundcloud.com/edwin-balder/sets/country-hits-you-might-need?si=307edea8be674dc3bedee9345a814080&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing

All Rights Reserved Edwin H. Balder
Thanks so much to my band: Hot Cookie
See Our Music Videos Here> https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC-509h42heKT05D8egf2U9w


Last Light  by songwriter Edwin H. Balder

Back On It

They Grow Up So Fast

Keeping It Country, Kinda is a genre-bending bold blend of country, Red Dirt, rock, soul, blues, pop, and more. With cheeky lyrics, heartfelt grit, and a sound that refuses to be boxed in, this record is a love letter to musical freedom. From honky-tonk anthems to backbeat ballads, it’s country... kinda.

Porchlight Promise

**Verse 1:**  
The night is soft, but my heart  is  colder
I'm Smiling wide while the pain grows slower,.  
I'm lonely still in  such a crowded room,  
all the Laughter fades like it's ending soon.  

**Chorus:**  
Nobody sees my storm inside,  
Nobody hears the way I cry.  
Behind blue eyes, a silent plea, 
A world that aches but hides in me.  

**Verse 2:**  
 try nd find my face in my masquerade,  
But all you'll get is shadows whisperin my life away.  
Echoes dance with my silence of despair,  
just a hollow song to chill my empty air.  

**Chorus:**  
Nobody sees my storm inside,  
Nobody hears the way I cry.  
Behind blue eyes, a silent plea 
A world that aches but hides in me.  

**Bridge:**  
If I could scream, would someone care?  
Would their arms chase my ghosts from everywhere?  
has destiny chosen me to stand alone,  
with my voice unheard, just a heart unknown?  

**Outro:**  
So I sing where no one hears,  
Hold my sorrow in my tears.  
Another day, this masquerade  
will they shed a tear, if I  go away

Nobody Hears the Moon Cry

Carrying Your Love With Me - George Strait

Chase Rice - How She Rolls

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

Last Light by songwriter Edwin H. Balder

Edwin Balder

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