Walked in with a hole in my chest
Whiskey prayers and a thousand regrets
Sat down where the shadows won’t talk
And let the silence pour with every shot

I swore I was done with the fight
Wounds too deep for another night
But then she lit up the corner of the room
Like a hymn rising under a blood-red moon

What kind of war is love again?
Where hearts break just to learn to bend
She looked like peace but felt like flames
Now I’m drawing lines in my own name
Is this the battle or the plan?
Am I the soldier or the man?
I don’t know how it all began
But I’m signing up for your love plan

Her eyes held more than the wine
Stories folded in the space of time
She smiled and I forgot her name
’Cause all I saw was my soul rearranged

Maybe I’m foolish, maybe I’m blind
But maybe the war ends this time
If love’s a fight I’ve lost before
Maybe she’s what I was fighting for

What kind of war is love again?
Where hearts break just to learn to bend
She looked like peace but felt like flames
Now I’m drawing lines in my own name
Is this the battle or the plan?
Am I the soldier or the man?
I don’t know how it all began
But I’m signing up for your love plan

So pour another round for the dead and the damned
I’ll raise my glass to the ones who understand
If love is war, then take my hand
Let’s lose together in this love plan

Love plan

A country-soul anthem about trading whiskey for the rush of real love. “Don't Need Bourbon” is a story of second chances and finding the only high you’ll ever need in the arms of someone true. From smoky regret to that first unforgettable taste of devotion—this song raises a glass to the kind of love you can’t put down. For fans of heartfelt storytelling and classic modern country vibes.



Don't Need Bourbon

Seized

A song for the narcissist in your life. And if you don't know who that is...

Starting tomorrow

Permission_To_Burn_3

BROKEN-WINGS

Broken

Well the night wore a raincoat and silence lost the fight
My guardian angel tipped his hat and said, “I’ll be back tonight”
He folded up his wings like maps and fluttered for a laugh
Said “There’s a corner store on Eighth - I’ll grab a pack and a half”
The oak tree cleared his throat, the alley took a drag
By the time the moon came down to check my mailbox, he was lagged

My guardian angel went out for cigarettes and never came back
Left his halo in the ashtray, his footprints on the track
The fog wrote his name on the window and the morning kept it black
My guardian angel went out for cigarettes and never came back

The bartender wiped his hands and hummed a hymn of spare change
The piano played like someone tryin’ to remember his own name
I asked the moon just for a witness, blinked like an old man’s eye
Said “He lit a match, said ‘Be right back,’ then shuffled off to die”
Not of fire or of fever, just of something small and sly
Like a promise with a hole in it where the moon slips through and flies

My guardian angel went out for cigarettes and never came back
Left his halo in the gutter, his polaroids in my pack
The city ate his shadow, coughed it up in a railroad stack
My guardian angel went out for cigarettes and never came back

I went down to the corner where the saints pawn their shoes
There was a policeman prayin’, a child wishin’ blues
A preacher sold me forgiveness for two coins and a snack
But his ledger said, “No returns” - angel left without his hat

I found his lighter in a puddle, the brass all bent and polite
It clicked like a tiny chapel, tried to make the darkness right
There was a lipstick on the jukebox, a ticket in the cat’s cold lap
A little note in the battered hat that read, “Don’t wait - don’t nap”
Maybe he just stepped out for a smoke, maybe he went to test the sky
Maybe angels like the taste of trouble when the day turns sideways dry

My guardian angel went out for cigarettes and never came back
Left a trail of blue confetti like a goddamn railroad track
There’s a hole where my halo oughta be, and a matchbox with his lack
My guardian angel went out for cigarettes and never came back

So I light my own small candle, watch the smoke curl and rise
If he’s playin’ cards with sinners or teachin’ rooftops to improvise
Tell him keep the change and tell him don’t go thinkin’ that I lack
If he swings by on a Sunday, tell him bring a pack - and bring it back

Track from the album "Tin-Cup Valentine"

Tin-Cup Valentine

Ash Halo Blues

Buy at Bandcamp

Marian

He could not be restrained. (1)

I Don't Belong Here Anymore

Tom Aldercastle-Barely broken in, Stuck in second gear, Third exit to nowhere, singles. A lot of stuff comes out now, hope you can handle it without a burnout. I hope you guy`s like something, STAY AWESOME!

Short bio; Genuine country boy, Born April 1980. Played some electric guitar and piano in high school. Joined an Oasis cover band in the early 2000`s. Worked as an merchant marine for some years, wrote songs for own fun. Joined the search and rescue in 2011. In 2015 as sitting as a local fire chief I began to do beats and lyrics for various bands but mainly rap. Now in 2025 I decided give out my own stuff and in the genre I like, not all the songs where in country style from the beginning though.

I want to thank all the listeners from the bottom of my heart for listening and pushing the "like" button. You who follow, I try to listen and follow you back but it`s a bit hectic right now.

See ya!  Tom

Dirty Bastard - Rapture album and singles.

Broken

Jam Bend Records

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