Sorry Blake!
Texas REAL By Songwriter Edwin H. Balder
I hear the twang of a steel guitar  
hummin a tune ringin too far  
from the truth were livin the cracks in the creed  
where the stars at night dont shine on what we need  
Iborn where the bluebonnets bloom  
where the skies stretch wide but the futures entombed  
They said Work hard  youll rise like the sun  
but the schools are broken and the battles never won  
Textbooks heavy with the weight of neglect  
while the leaders line pockets and were left to collect  
 a system thats rigged from the start  
 rich get the power 
the poor lose heart    
Oh Texas your musics a sweet sweet sound  
but your promises crumble like dust on the ground  
From the grid that goes dark to the laws that divide  
youre a beautiful dream with a nightmare inside  
Your songs make me cry but your truth makes me bleed  
Texas I love you but youre killin me  
 lights went out in the freeze of the night  
while the governor joked and the rich stayed tight  
Women are warriors but their rights are chained  
their voices silenced, lost in the rain  
 air tastes like poison, rivers run thick  
with the waste of the greed theyre sellin so quick  
Doctors are leavin the hospitals bare  
while senators sit in their leather-bound chairs  
Oh Texas your musics a sweet sweet sound  
but your promises crumble like dust on the ground  
From the grid that goes dark to the laws that divide  
youre a beautiful dream with a nightmare inside  
Your songs make me cry but your truth makes me bleed  
Texas I love you but youre killin me  
see the ghosts of the frontier  
whisperin through the pines What happened here  
land of the free but chains still bind  
for the many who suffer and grind  
The oil pumps slow like a heartbeat faint  
the earth cracks open and the skies complain  
But the music still plays like a stubborn refrain  
a bittersweet echo of joy and pain  
 standin where the red river flows  
with the weight of the past and the future it shows  
Ill sing for the workers the dreamers the brave  
for the ones who are fightin to rise from the grave  
For the kids in the classrooms with no books to read  
for the mothers who struggle for the ones in need  
For the land that we love but were forced to defend  
Texas this aint the end this aint the end  
Oh Texas your musics a sweet sweet sound  
but your promises crumble like dust on the ground  
From the grid that goes dark to the laws that divide  
youre a beautiful dream with a nightmare inside  
Your songs make me cry but your truth makes me bleed  
Texas I love you but youre killin me  
So Ill strum this guitar and Ill sing this refrain  
for the hope that remains in the heartache and pain  
Texas youre broken but youre still my home  
and Ill fight for the day youre no longer alone  
Your musics a beacon your spirits  a flame
Texas I love you but youve got to change

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

Texas REAL By Songwriter Edwin H. Balder

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

Texas REAL By Songwriter Edwin H. Balder

Edwin Balder