Very nice! Might be nice for a Kacey Musgraves my wife’s client. Tarron Crayton, bass for Kacey world tour’ Deeper Well’ 2024-25. Would you like me to Rep this song to Kacey? We’ll have to work something out. It’s very difficult at times. Timing is everything. She’s returning to the road very soon. Tarron is my dearest and music producer and is helping me produce a song to pitch Ksenia Buzina. She writes me daily. Great year Edwin, James

i love this ❤️‍🔥 I’ve been playing Harmonica since 1967 Maine YMCA . My band SHARK FINS. Saturday night. Age 15. Yes, Hippies, musicians 60s. For the girls! ❤️🔥😘 then it got serious with songwriting. Our own material for stardom  lol

(Updated on 10/14/24) This song is one of my first real featured-artist collaborations for me as a producer. My talented and wonderful daughter sang the lead vocal and helped me co-write the melody to better fit her performance style. As a producer, I like to include the vocalist's input to better serve the performance.  

We released this version of the song without any promotion.

© 2024 Lyrics & Music By Brenda Doss (BMI) and Lindsey Kay Scott (ASCAP)
Lyrics:
I want to live
I want to love
I want to reach for all 
That I’ve been dreaming of

I want to sing
I want dance
And lift my life above 
The sorrows of the past

What are the reasons that we live 
If not for joy
If we can make it 
Through the darkest hours
We’ve made it through the storm
But when the morning comes 
And there is light
In just a moment
It could be gone

All we have 
Is here and now
The only chance 
To make it count
I want to make 
My life count here with you
The strength that lives 
Inside my dreams
Is knowing you’ll 
Be there for me
And I am not alone
You’ll always be my home
My home

You are my love
You are my life
And I’d give anything 
Just to keep you at my side

All we have 
Is here and now
The only chance 
To make it count
I want to make 
My life count here with you
Maybe all 
The strength I'll need
Is knowing you’ll 
Be there for me

And I am not alone
I know I’m not alone
I know I’m not alone
I know I’m not alone
Where ever you are 
That will always be
My home
My home

All we have 
Is here and now
So short a time 
To make it count
I’m going to make 
My life count here with you
The best that I will ever be
Is all ‘cause you’ll be there for me
And I am not alone
You’ll always be my home
My home
You’ll always be 
My home

My Home

My Home ft. Lindsey Kay Scott

Ninety nine air balloons
When the lies come raining down

like every dry season comes the massoon
All the ugly will perish, the truth will wear the crown

Ninety nine air balloons
The earth will be flat(once again) 
and ships will be crashing down(no more crazy captains)

No one on the helm a cruise to no mans land
No more control, no more rules to bend

Ninety nine air balloons
Your burden is lifted
This curse, on this earth, shifted(Hold on my dear)

Ninety nine air balloons
When the lies come raining down

like every dry season comes the massoon
All the ugly will perish, the truth will wear the crown

Ninety nine air balloons
So many beautiful colors but colorless
Like music it doesn't discriminate

Ninety nine air balloons
No more borders only free states.

A small nod to the song 
Nena 99 Luftballons (1983)

Lyrics by Amarya Illude

99 Air Balloons

NEVER GONNA HEAR MY SONG ON THE RADIO
[Verse 1]
Ridin’ in the backseat of my father’s old Bonneville
On our way to the casino so he could get his jolly fill
Handed my mother my new CD, she popped it in the player
She was singin’ along but Daddy was that naysayer, he said:

[Refrain]
Are you makin’ any money with any of your songs?
Are you makin’ any money with any of your songs?

[Verse 2]
Felt that break in my heart as my tongue got twisted and tied
Hearin’ Dad say such a thing really caught me by surprise
At the time, I was full ‘a fire; full of hopes and dreams
But now that I’m older an’ Daddy’s gone hard as it seems:

[Chorus]
You’re never gonna hear my song on the radio
You’re never gonna hear my song on the radio
But I’m gonna sing my song do or die anyway

[Verse 3]
In my mid-forties, packed up a U-Haul, headed for Music City USA
Don’t know what I was thinkin’ but I had to break away
I could barely play guitar and singin’ was never my thing
But I had notebooks full ‘a lyrics for the luck they might bring, but

[Verse 4]
Nashville’s who-you-know and when you’re offbeat like me
It’s easy to get eaten by the whales in the sea
But I took to the stage, played for empty tables and chairs
I suppose Daddy said what he said because he cared, he said:

[Refrain]
Are you makin’ any money with any of your songs?
Are you makin’ any money with any of your songs?

[Music]

[Verse 5]
Well, I got a couple of nibbles on a ditty here and there
As the years rolled by, I could see my songs weren’t goin’ anywhere
But to this day, if I don’t write it down, I feel empty as a drum
And sittin’ here in my writing chair, I take ‘em as they come:

[Chorus]
You’re never gonna hear my song on the radio
No, you’re never gonna hear my song on the radio
But I’m gonna sing my song do or die anyway, one more! 

You’re never gonna hear my song on the radio
No, you’re never gonna hear my song on the radio
But I’m gonna sing my song do or die anyway!

© 2025 Renee La Chapelle – All Rights Reserved

NEVER GONNA HEAR MY SONG ON THE RADIO

This is a very old song written when I first picked up my music after a long layoff. It is written about Lena Leonardi, our landlady ( Landlord fit the song better  ) back in 1980. We moved into our new apartment when my joyce was pregnant with our first child. Lena was a sort of Philosopher.. Very hard working and always there to offer advice on whatever. She was very kind to us but she was also tough. I recall times when she would come to the back door when we were late on the rent and pound on the glass , and in her endearing Italian accent she would yell " Liggett!!!  I know you're in there !! PLEASE Liggett! PLease pay the rent !! ".. One time I came to the door and had to explain that we just didn't have the money right at the moment...she took me over to her apartment and sat me down while she prepared a couple of jars of Minestrone soup.. homemade and delicious. She said " Liggett, all you need is a little bread, a little bit of soup and a little bit of wine... that's all you need Liggett "  I never forgot her..Joyce and I talk about her once in a while and quote things she told us.. To this day she is in our hearts and minds.. almost like family. And thats how most of the Italians were to me growing up.. treated me well and looked out for me as I lived in a town called Elmwood Park known as little Italy..  Now, back in november of last year when I made the decision to start uploading all of my songs.. who is there b, among many others of course, but two who have given me the most support and good advice along with wonderful and inspiring music and words? But Michael Ansani and the beautiful folks at The Beating Edge.. From Italy...of course. Oh... and Len Benatti  .. you from Italy too?😊So.. I dedicate this song to them and wish them good fortune and calm seas ahead ! Salute!

Lyrics:

Long ago when I was 21 and I was just out on my own
a pretty new bride and a brand new son
trying hard to make a home
I wasn't ready to settle down and I needed some advice
My old Italian Landlord, she always treated me nice

A simple life and a happy home 
and everything will be just fine
But things don't always go that way 
and you can get a little bit behind
well if you lose direction and you're looking for a clue
my old Italian landlord she always knew what to do

She said:  A little bread and a little soup and a little bit of wine
that's all you need , that's all you need
a little luck and a little love and a little bit of time
that's all you need, that's all you need

I met that old lady, all those years ago
she led a very simple life and she always told you so
she was there when we were hungry 
she was there when we were broke
and even after all these years 
i remember the words she spoke

Now and then I think of her she holds a place in my mind
not too many like her so humble and so kind
I hope there's just a few spread around here and there
looking out for guys like me who need someone to care

She said:  A little bread and a little soup and a little bit of wine
that's all you need , that's all you need
a little luck and a little love and a little bit of time
that's all you need, that's all you need


All you need

We have all been on this ride...
Windows Down by songwriter Edwin H. Balder
The screen door slams, and the dust settles low,  
But I’m already gone, where the wild rivers flow...  
I’m leaving the heartache in a one-horse town,  
With the radio loud and the.... windows..... down. ...
I found your letter in the glovebox today,  
Folded in thirds like the words you couldn’t say.  
The ink’s faded, but the hurt’s still clear,  
And the rearview mirror’s the only thing you’re near.  
I’m chasing a skyline that don’t have your name,  
Where the stars burn brighter than the fire we became.  
I’m leaving the heartache in a one-horse town,  
With the radio loud and the windows down.  
With the radio loud and the ....windows ..... down.  
I passed the diner where we’d meet after dark,  
Now it’s just a shell with a flickering spark.  
The jukebox plays a song we used to know,  
But the melody’s lost in the miles I’ve grown.   
I’m chasing a skyline that don’t have your name,  
Where the stars burn brighter than the fire we became.  
I’m leaving the heartache in a one-horse town,  
With the radio loud and the windows down.  
With the radio loud and the ....windows ..... down.  
I found your boots by the back porch door,  
Kicked ‘em aside like the love we outwore.  
The leather’s cracked, but the soles still hold,  
Just like the memories I’m learning to let go ]  
the highway hums like a  Dolly lullaby,  
And the moon’s my witness as I say goodbye.  
The tires keep rolling, the road keeps wide,  
And the ghosts of our love can’t catch this ride.  
I’m chasing a skyline that don’t have your name,  
Where the stars burn brighter than the fire we became.  With the radio loud and the ....windows ..... down.  
I’m chasing a skyline that don’t have your name,  
And the road’s my forever, the heartache’s my fame.  
With the radio loud and the ....windows ..... down.  I’m leaving the heartache in a one-horse town,  (I’m leaving the heartache)
With the radio loud and the windows down.  
With the radio loud and the ....windows ..... down.  
  (I’m leaving the heartache) 

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

Windows Down by songwriter Edwin H. Balder

She Keeps Me Holding On (2025).mp3

Written by Peter Schickele, Joan Baez 1972 for the film Silent Running.
Music Production by Thomas Mierkiewicz 🍋 ‬Lemonbrew Studio @user-297959700
Vocals by Kate Stanton 3/30/2025 #coversong #songcover #collaboration 

Rejoice in the Sun (Lemonbrew & Kate Stanton)

"Preghiera atea" è una canzone che esplora la ricerca di significato e identità in un mondo disorientante. Attraverso immagini evocative, l'autore esprime il senso di smarrimento e vulnerabilità, affrontando le sfide della vita. Nonostante il tono malinconico, emerge un messaggio di speranza e resilienza, invitando a continuare a cercare la propria strada e a trovare bellezza anche nei momenti difficili.

Preghiera atea
 
In un terreno che non è mio mi sono perso,   
con il mio senso di orientamento insicuro e falso.  
Tra le brevi pause di colori di un semaforo,  
mi sono ritrovato in un dialogo distratto.

Senza sapere, senza dare, senza avere,  
Forse ho cent’anni o forse molti di  più,  
E so che sopra una nuvola che copre il sole,  
c’è sempre un cielo azzurro sopra di noi.
  
Una preghiera atea per sperare,  
come un brivido mandato dal destino.  
Sperare in un futuro non posso,  
solo il suono sordo del mio passo,  
E mangiandone solo un piccolo pezzo,  
in questo viaggio la vita non sembra abbia inizio.

Come un mastino che difende il suo osso,  
la vita è un esame, ti mette alla prova.  
Anche senza rima o come una prosa,  
con frasi buttate lì al vento
Senza cercare risposte 
in un mondo che pur si muove.

Senza sapere, senza dare, senza avere,  
Forse ho cent’anni o forse molti di più,  
E so che sopra una nuvola che copre il sole,  
Forse è rimasta  una briciola di speranza.

Una preghiera atea per sperare,  
come un rito premonitore.  
conto le scale e lentamente a salire,  
Come sempre fanno fatica i miei passi,  
come se avessi in tasca mille sassi,  
In questo viaggio sembra  non ha un inizio.

E mentre cammino, cerco un senso,  
tra le ombre e la luce, un equilibrio immenso.  
Ogni passo un segreto, ogni sguardo un motivo,  
in questo terreno che non è mio, 
……ma è vivo!

In un terreno che non è mio mi sono perso,  
ma nel silenzio trovo la mia voce e la mia pace,
anche senza rima, come una prosa,  
continuo a camminare, cercando la mia rosa!

Preghiera atea

Heels clickin' softly

Love Makes Us Reach

LetsFlyAwayRemake (1)

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

Windows Down by songwriter Edwin H. Balder

Edwin Balder

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