THIS IS AN OPEN SOURCE SONG WITH OPEN RIGHTS TO COVER!
Goodmoring...So ...today another cold day on Hell...
Link to more by The Indivisibles soundcloud.com/edwin-balder/sets/buy-the-indivisibles/s-AsXmxzPelsN?si=7795d0cdd89746ae896af1fc1d725e6b&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium
"You thought I was done? Nah—
Frostbite's the cost when you cross me..."
"I kept it chill, froze the flames you brought,
Played it cool while you took your shot.
But every cut you made built the ice—
Solid as steel, now I’m slicing twice.
You wanted power, you wanted control,
Now you're cornered in the cold.
Karma’s skating in on thin ice—
Better pray that your fire suffices."
"Tick, tick—countdown’s on,
Did you think I'd stay the pawn?
Chessboard flipped, New boss in charge—
Time’s up; better check the scars."
Cold cuts, slicing deeper than you’d bet—
Every blade is forged in regret.
You played games, now you're melting slow—
Shiver, baby, frostbite in tow.
Cold cuts—payback's a bitter brew,
Revenge served ice-cold for you.
Step back, the storm’s begun—
I’m the avalanche, you’re ... on the run....on the run....on the run....
"Now I’m skating circles ‘round your lies,
Trail of dust, no alibis.
Your empire’s cracking under the weight,
Every flake’s a layer of fate.
Don’t bother screaming—I’m out of tune,
Your breath’s wasted on the frozen moon.
You had the matches, burned the bridge,
Now you're stranded—edge of the ridge."
"Tick, tick—countdown’s on,
Did you think I'd stay the pawn?
Chessboard flipped, new boss in charge—
Time’s up; better check the scars."
"Cold cuts, slicing deeper than you’d bet—
Every blade is forged in regret.
You played games, now you're melting slow—
Shiver, baby, frostbite in tow.
Cold cuts—payback's a bitter brew,
Revenge served ice-cold for you.
Step back, the storm’s begun—
I’m the avalanche, you’re ... on the run....on the run....on the run....
"You wanted the crown? Could’ve had it all.
But now the ice is your kingdom—
And this throne’s too cold for your fall."
"Cold cuts, slicing deeper than the snow,
Every crack in your armor starts to show.
So long, baby—I’m gone...
Frozen, but I’m fully strong.
"Step back, the storm’s begun—
I’m the avalanche, you’re ... on the run....on the run....on the run....
I’m the avalanche, you’re ... on the run....on the run....on the run...

Cold Cuts by The Indivisibles

Big clue to how alone you are...
Eating Over The Sink    by Edwin H. Balder
Cold plate, quiet night,
Fork in hand, no appetite.
Standing here, staring low,
Where did all those years go?
Used to be candlelight, linen spread,
Used to be laughter, whispered thread.
Now it's leftovers, paper plates,
Echoes of love that came too late.
Time unravels, lines get blurred,
Memories sting in broken words.
Eating over the sink, tears in the drain,
Swallowing silence, choking on pain.
Once served love on silver trays,
Now it’s just me and yesterday.
Eating over the sink, hunger misplaced,
Feeding regrets I can’t erase.
Used to set two, used to pour,
Now I scrape crumbs off the floor.
Used to hold hands, wine-stained lips,
Now just empty fingertips.
Used to be mornings tangled tight,
Now the sheets stay smooth at night.
Eating over the sink, tears in the drain,
Swallowing silence, choking on pain.
Once served love on silver trays,
Now it’s just me and yesterday.
Eating over the sink, hunger misplaced,
Feeding regrets I can’t erase.
Some love fades, some love breaks,
Some just lingers in mistakes.
Some hearts heal, some hearts fold,
Some just ache when nights turn cold.]
Tomorrow calls, the world moves fast,
But I still chew on what won’t pass.
The love that stayed, the love that died,
The love that never said goodbye.
Used to toast to hope and dreams,
Now I rinse off history’s seams.
Eating over the sink, tears in the drain,
Swallowing silence, choking on pain.
Once served love on silver trays,
Now it’s just me and yesterday.
Eating over the sink, hunger misplaced,
Feeding regrets I can’t erase.

The best cross section playlist of our work with new releases added at the end each week:
 https://soundcloud.com/edwin-balder/sets/future-hits-4u-here?si=df2f5fac47e74c1583a329f4cf12fe51&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

Eating Over The Sink   HC & EHB

THIS IS AN OPEN SOURCE SONG WITH OPEN RIGHTS TO COVER!
They Blame the Band An Open Source Cover 4U
by The Indivisibles

Blame the band...Blame the band...
they’re stackin’ gold like gospel truth
cut health and hope and call it proof
wrap hate in flags, then sell it clean
say it’s freedom when it’s just mean
they steal the vote, they shift the blame
they rewrite books, then preach God's name
but point a finger when a singer screams—
like melody’s the real machine
they blame the band for the house goin’ down
while the match still smokes in a tailor-made crown
they silence songs, but not the scam
we see through the suits and sleight of hand
they blame the band—
while the house is burnin’,
they're yellin' at the band
a rich man lies with a polished grin
says “rights are earned”—not born within
the laws get bent to guard the throne
while working hands are stripped to bone
they cut the mic and crank the spin
say peace is weak and greed’s a win
but while they pray to coal and crown,
they fear the words that won’t back down
they blame the band for the fever rise
while auctionin’ truth to the highest lie
they hate the chords that call them out
and twist a verse into a shout
they blame the band—
while justice drowns,
they're throwin’ rocks at sound
we are the verse they can’t erase
the kitchen floor, the picket base
from chain gang fields to coffee shops
we’ve sung beneath their gavel drops
they call us loud
they call us lost
but all we do is count the cost—
of silence sold and songs denied
and kids who fear to just survive
don’t tell me art’s the thing to fear
when hate holds office year to year
we sing not ‘cause we want applause
we sing 'cause someone stole the laws
they blame the band while they gut the land
paint rage as peace with a sleight of hand
but we won’t bend, and we won’t fade
we write the truth they won’t parade
they blame the band—
so we turn it loud
for every voice not allowed
they blame the band...
they blame the band...
but we hold the line,
with a pen in hand
they blame the band—
let 'em try
we’ve always been
the last to die
[hard line instrumental catchy hook]
they blame the band...
they blame the band...
but we hold the line,
with a pen in hand
they blame the band—
let 'em try
we’ve always been
the last to die  the last to die  the ....last.... to ....die


THIS IS AN OPEN SOURCE SONG WITH OPEN RIGHTS TO COVER!
Songwriter Edwin H. Balder...contact by DM for free stems

They Blame the Band by The Indivisibles

This is an Open Source song with open rights to cover!
Fools under a yellow umbrella
Talkin’ big like they’re some kinda fella
Books unread, but they quote like kings
Truth ain’t welcome in their rings
They sit on chairs the color of fear
Plastic thrones that disappear
They smile wide, but never see
The cracks beneath their canopy
Yellow umbrella, coward’s shade
Coverin’ lies that power made
They don’t care, they just pretend
To give a damn, to comprehend
But outside that circle, truth still breathes
In broken hearts and fallen leaves
And every time they fake the light
They kill a little more of right
They pass the mic like sacred wine
But every word’s a crooked line
They preach of peace, they sell the war
They lock the gate, then praise the poor
Their cults wear suits, their crimes wear ties
They drown the truth in alibis
And every time they raise their glass
Democracy slips through the cracks
I’ve seen the yellow glow at dawn
Where cowards sit and kingdoms pawn
They clap for power, not for grace
They fear the mirror, not the face
They build their walls with empty praise
And call it love, and call it faith
But I’ve walked through storms they never knew
And I still bleed red, white, and blue
Yellow umbrella, coward’s shade
Coverin’ lies that power made
They don’t care, they just pretend
To give a damn, to comprehend
But outside that circle, truth still breathes
In broken hearts and fallen leaves
And every time they fake the light
They kill a little more of right
So let it rain, let thunder speak
Let silence rise from voices weak
I’ll stand outside, I’ll take the pain
I’ll never sit beneath that stain
Yellow umbrella, fade away
Your plastic throne won’t rule the day
The fools may laugh, the wise may cry
But truth don’t need a place to lie... Oh lord
The fools may laugh, the wise may cry
But truth don’t need a place to lie... Oh lord
The fools may laugh, the wise may cry
But truth don’t need a place to lie... Oh lord Oh lord Oh lord....

All rights openly ganted by songwriter Edwin H. Balder

More from The Indivisibles members: https://soundcloud.com/edwin-balder/sets/buy-the-indivisibles?si=1bae3eef17d34c4cb68e417d091d1c5e&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing

Yellow Umbrella by The Indivisibles

Link to more by The Indivisibles soundcloud.com/edwin-balder/sets/buy-the-indivisibles/s-AsXmxzPelsN?si=7795d0cdd89746ae896af1fc1d725e6b&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing
songwriter Edwin H. Balder

The Beginning Every Day by The Indivisibles

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

New tracks tagged #indierock #rockandroll #punkrock #folkrock southernrock