"Dance of Raindrops and Sunrays" is the second track from our album "Spring Awakening: Songs of Renewal". This gentle composition reflects the harmonious interplay between rain and sunlight, symbolizing the beauty of emotional balance and renewal.

Soft, ethereal melodies blend with warm acoustic textures, capturing the serene moment when raindrops meet sunrays, creating a dance of shimmering reflections. Close your eyes, breathe deeply, and reconnect with your inner harmony.

MagicMind Glow – You Are Light... You Are It All.

#RainMusic #SunshineMusic #Mindfulness #Renewal #MeditationMusic #NatureInspired #AmbientFolk #AcousticMusic #InnerPeace #MagicMindGlow #WhisperingForest #Garumani #SpringAwakening #SoundCloudMusic #NewRelease

Dance of Raindrops and Sunrays

This one is about what doesn’t get said — and what no one wants to hear.
For so many people with endo, blood becomes part of life.
Unpredictable. Heavy. Painful.
But we don’t talk about it. We hide it. We normalize it.
Bleeding in Silence breaks that silence.
It’s about the shame, the soaked clothes, the ruined sheets, the whispered apologies, the isolation — and the deep knowing that this shouldn’t be normal… but somehow it is.
This track gives voice to what you’ve been taught to keep quiet — and it does it beautifully.

Bleeding in Silence

Dit is een lyrisch lied over de stille ruimte van innerlijke zoektocht tussen de stormachtige momenten van het leven.
Het herinnert ons zachtjes eraan dat we zelfs in onzekere overgangen niet alleen zijn — en dat het licht vooruit altijd op ons wacht.

Leun tegen de maan

They lit me up in summer’s blaze,
Thought heat alone would set me right.
But burnin’ fast just chars the ways
And leaves no room for proper light.
So I slipped off where the cold wind weeps,
To where the frost don’t lie nor bite.
And there I curled in water deep—
Distilled, you see, by moonlit night.

The others boiled with blood and flame,
Their voices cracked, their fists all clenched.
But I just watched the shadows frame
A quiet truth that can't be wrenched.
I held me breath, I held me line,
I drank no fire, no holy rite.
Just let the silence settle fine—
Distilled I was, by silver light.

Not all of us were meant to burn,
Some drip through time, not twist and turn.
You broke in sparks, all loud and bright—
I broke in hush, distilled by night.
No flare, no flash, just salted skin—
The moon took owt that shined within.

I weren’t no saint, I held me sins,
But didn’t wear 'em like a badge.
They settled low, beneath me ribs,
Like stones in rivers, smooth but sad.
The pain don’t leave, it just refines—
Each loss a weight, but carved just right.
So I stayed soft, let go the lines—
Distilled beneath that northern light.

It’s colder here… but clearer too.
Some things you only see in blue.
You burned too fast, love. I just steeped—
the ones who steep… they always keep.

Not all of us were made to blaze,
Some fade with grace through colder days.
You cracked in gold, I bled in white—
Distilled I was… by moonlight.

So leave me there, in silver sleep…
Distilled too slow, and far too deep.

Distilled by moonlight

Next to You

Nothing but Stories is the debut release by Sadie Quinn – a voice made of dust, distance, and memory. Blending Americana, folk, and quiet poetry, this track traces the moments we leave behind and the stories we carry with us.

With lines that feel like open roads and melodies like old letters, Sadie Quinn reminds us that fame fades, but feelings don’t.
This is a song for late-night listeners, back-porch dreamers, and anyone who ever wondered what remains when everything else is gone.

“In the end, we’re nothing but stories.”


Nothing but Stories ist die erste Veröffentlichung von Sadie Quinn – einer Stimme aus Staub, Weite und Erinnerung. Zwischen Americana, Folk und flüsternder Poesie erzählt der Song von den Momenten, die vergehen, und den Geschichten, die bleiben.

Mit Zeilen wie Landstraßen und Melodien wie alte Briefe erinnert Sadie Quinn daran, dass Ruhm vergeht – Gefühle aber nicht.
Ein Lied für Nachtschwärmer, Veranda-Träumer und alle, die sich fragen, was bleibt, wenn alles andere verschwunden ist.

„Am Ende sind wir nichts als Geschichten.“

Nothing but Stories

🎶 The Pleasurerz is an exciting new 2025 collective community based in the United Kingdom. We are from different nations and backgrounds. Creating original and engaging music across a wide range of genres, with one simple goal: to entertain and surprise our listeners, wherever you are in the world.

🌍 Our songs span multiple languages and styles, always driven by passion, creativity, and a sense of fun. We do this purely for the joy of sharing what we love: fresh, authentic, and exciting music.

💥 We don’t follow trends — we reinvent them. We're not chasing fame — just that spark of joy and rhythm in the hearts of those who listen.

🎧 Follow us on SoundCloud and step into the sound world of The Pleasurerz:

Copyright © 2025 The Pleasurerz ® - All Rights Reserved.

My Safe Place

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

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“The Cold Don’t Lie” is a dust-covered journey through backroads, motel rooms, and quiet regrets. With razor-sharp lines like “Steerin’ by feel, not direction” and “The cold don’t lie like the heat you gave,” this song captures the raw honesty of running from a past that still burns. It’s not a love song—it’s what comes after. A soundtrack for anyone who’s ever driven just to forget.

„The Cold Don’t Lie“ ist ein staubiger Trip durch Hinterland, Motels und unausgesprochene Abschiede. Mit Zeilen wie „Steerin’ by feel, not direction“ und „The cold don’t lie like the heat you gave“ erzählt der Song von der Klarheit nach dem Sturm – wenn man weiterzieht, nicht aus Freiheit, sondern weil es keine Wahrheit mehr gibt, die bleibt. Kein Liebeslied – sondern das, was danach kommt.

The Cold Don't Lie

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