[Verse]
Guitar is tuned heart is bleeding free
Strings are singing whispers of the sea
Pure cacao flows through veins like a stream
Eyes wide open chasing the dream

[Verse 2]
Want to stretch my body feel alive
Like a fish in water I can dive
Move in any direction no walls to hold
Searching for warmth in a world so cold

[Chorus]
Thanks for life but I want love
Thanks for the stars that shine above
Thanks for food but I crave you
Only your fire feels so true

[Verse 3]
Ceremony pure energy within
Dancing with shadows shedding my skin
Every breath a story every step a chance
Lending my soul to the rhythm of the dance

[Verse 4]
Still I stand on this rugged trail
Winds may howl and hearts may fail
But in your arms there's no disguise
A truth so loud it pierces the skies

[Chorus]
Thanks for life but I want love
Thanks for the stars that shine above
Thanks for food but I crave you
Only your fire feels so true

Open Strings 2

Our trip was a brink of maybe...
Treebark Hearts by songwriter Edwin H. Balder
some hearts aren’t meant to end”—
as  we became both ...wound ...and ...mend...
we traveled light, with stories wide
still strong enough to paddle pride
a canoe through lakes of tender blue
your hand was map, my trust the crew
and laughter found us, soft and real—
in every scar that time could heal
we were the wonder, we were the flame
we wore each season like a second name
and though your road took different stars to chase
i still know where you are in this grace
and where the echo still knows my voice…
you’re the quiet in my every choice
we welcomed strangers like old kin
offering faith to walk within
you painted skies with question marks
i wrote my truths in treebark hearts
but when we left, we left no “why”—
just stars that blinked like a soft goodbye
we were the wonder, we were the flame
we sang through storms and gave hope names
and though your silhouette has long since flown
i still see you in places we once called home
and when the silence leans in close…
you’re the voice that I trust the most
 I still walk it most every day
just in case the wind has something to say
i see your laugh in water’s bend
feel your echo like an old best friend
and though you’ve moved beyond the frame—
i carry that time like it knows my name
 though the time rewrote our chart
i still find you in my fading heart
 when the dusk curls into prose—
you’re  the echo  my love still knows
we spoke last
on the darkest wave
and somehow... both ...were ...gently... saved...
(gently saved )..gently ..saved..( gently saved)


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


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

Treebark Hearts  by songwriter Edwin H. Balder

Veil Entertainment presents: Ellis Wilder.
A haunting new voice in indie folk.
With his debut single “October Left With You,” Ellis delivers a stripped-down, emotionally raw reflection on love, loss, and motel-room memories. Just a guitar, a bruise, and the echo of someone who never said goodbye.

October Left With You

The Day We Found Each Other | Raw Acoustic Blues Ballad (Heartache, Hope & the Open Road)

The Day We Found Each Other is a raw unplugged blues song that tells the story of two lost souls who find solace on the road. Through stripped-down acoustic guitar, harmonica, and emotional vocals, the song captures themes of heartache, travel, and the search for inner peace. Inspired by the spirit of old delta blues and modern Americana, this track is perfect for fans of honest, soulful storytelling. Join two souls at an abandoned train station as they engage in an **honest conversations** about life's trials, discovering the strength in **togetherness**.  This **short film** captures their emotional journey, showing how **empathy** and **connection** can help navigate tough times. The video emphasizes the importance of **active listening** and understanding.

👉 Link to all my social platforms: https://ffm.bio/gkartist
👉 My direct links:
https://www.youtube.com/@GK-Artist
https://soundcloud.com/gk-artist
https://music.apple.com/us/artist/gk-artist/1699351480
https://www.tiktok.com/@gkartist
https://www.facebook.com/gkartistmusic/
https://www.instagram.com/gkartistmusic/
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCpEkdkSnf-a4-2LynLkFmug
https://open.spotify.com/artist/24aLqyotK8FYri0bMJaM6K/
https://x.com/GKArtist_/
👉 Playlist to all my songs: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLXaYSNQ4Ywf7SeatF-y1iAHFvpGWFBpBj

🎵 Song Details:
Music: Created with Suno AI
Lyrics: Written by GK Artist
Visuals: Created using CapCut
Editing & Montage: CapCut Studio

🙏 Thanks for listening—if this song resonated with you, leave a comment, share it with someone who needs it, and subscribe for more soulful sounds.

#BluesUnplugged #AcousticBlues #HeartacheSong #TravelingBlues #SoulfulBallad #HarmonicaBlues #EmotionalSong #DeltaBluesVibes #RoadSong #SearchingForPeace #SingerSongwriter #UnpluggedPerformance #GKArtist #AmericanaMusic #RawAcousticMusic

The Day We Found Each Other | Raw Acoustic Blues Ballad (Heartache, Hope & the Open Road)

Silk Road to Serenity.

Our worth and work is no exemption;

ETERNAL THRESHOLDS BOOKLET (EN) https://eklektikaberlin.com/files/1371805/eternal-thresholds-booklet.pdf
HORIZON IX BOOKLET (EN) https://eklektikaberlin.com/files/1369223/horizon-ix-the-story.pdf
HORIZON IX BOOKLET (DE): https://eklektikaberlin.com/files/1369835/horizon-ix-the-story-de.pdf

The Architect wakes beneath a ceiling that is not a ceiling, but a dome — black, seamless, impenetrable. Beyond it, there is no morning. The day is manufactured here. The air is clean, sweeter than memory, but wrong. Too close. Too finished.

This city was not built for beauty, but for survival. It has seasons without weather, rain without clouds, tides without an ocean. Every drop of water, every gust of air, is born in the humming belly of the machines that keep the world alive. Above, the wind still exists — somewhere. But here, it is replaced by a low, constant breath, like the lungs of a sleeping giant.

The Architect walks through glass domes where trees bloom forever, where fruit never rots, where rivers loop endlessly over hidden conveyor belts. Children draw pictures of stars they will never see. Lovers stroll under an artificial moon that is always in the right place for the photograph.

He knows the city will not fail soon — the machines are flawless. But he also knows this is not living. Each inhale is a reminder: the oxygen is here… but the sky is gone.

“Oxygen Without Sky” imagines a future where humanity survives in sealed, artificial environments, cut off from the natural world and the open sky. Its imagery of glass domes, programmed dawns, and manufactured air reflects a society that has traded freedom and authenticity for controlled safety, where even rain and seasons are simulations. The song critiques this sterile survival, highlighting how dependence on engineered systems erodes memory, curiosity, and connection to what is real. Beneath its dystopian surface lies a quiet yearning for what has been lost — the wind, the stars, the blackbird’s cry — reminding us that survival without true nature is a hollow kind of life.

HORIZON 4: OXYGEN WITHOUT SKY

Buck Ramble — When the Money Ain’t Never Over

Found in dusty reels marked “Goodnight Trail Sessions,” these are the long-lost recordings of Buck Ramble — the saloon singer turned silver-screen storyteller who lived long enough to see cowhands become celebrities.

Every track is a campfire sermon in rhythm: part truth, part tall tale.
He sings about lawmen, outlaws, faith, denial, women, whiskey, and the strange mercy of knowing too much.
By the time the record closes with the title track, Buck’s world has shifted from trail dust to camera lights — but the heart’s still out there under the same sky.

Restored by Volant Records (All Worlds Reserved®).

Genre: Frontier Folk / Western Blues / Spoken Americana

“Stories are cheaper than bullets — but hit just the same.”

The Prairie Sings a Hymn

The Drowning Hour is a raw, acoustic journey through a severe depressive episode and the slow, fragile rise that follows. Across fifteen intimate songs, a single close-mic’d tenor voice carries you from detaching and drowning to noticing the first crack of light and finally breathing again.

Borrowed Breath

Song written in 2002 about the passing of my parent. The song came to me in a dream. I woke up at around 2am in the morning to go and record the song before I forgot. Weird how that happens....  :-)

This song is available for artist cut, and publishing, sync, and licensing.
This project is a songwriting showcase for artists, and publishers.
Contact: tsdmusic73@gmail.com
Visit https://confessionallifesongwriting.com for more information. #unsigned #newmusic #originalsongs #sync #licensing

Don't Worry Now (Songwriter's Version)

In the hush after the storm, the forest begins to breathe again.
Northern Soul: November Air is a collection of songs about that stillness — when the air clears, the work is done, and mercy feels like wind through pine.
Written and produced in the cinematic folk-soul language of THOCE, these tracks blend acoustic guitar, felt piano, brass, nyckelharpa, and strings into warm, human stories of endurance and grace.
Each song is a reflection of quiet strength: the sound of light returning to cold air, of hearts mending in their own time.
No grandeur, no noise — just the pulse of the North rediscovering its soul.
Listen slowly.
Breathe.
November air is enough.

Awakening

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

Treebark Hearts by songwriter Edwin H. Balder

Edwin Balder