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
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Eating Over The Sink   HC & EHB

THIS IS AN OPEN SOURCE SONG WITH OPEN RIGHTS TO COVER!
Betrayal & Brunch An Open Source Cover 4U
by The Indivisibles

Champagne flows, deals get made
Silver spoons carve what’s betrayed
Backs turned easy, voices hushed
Another empire built on trust
Used to fight, used to stand
Now they shake hands with filthy hands
Used to bleed, used to burn
Now they trade their souls for what they earn
Dollar signs in their hungry eyes
Loyalty drowned in alibis
They don’t flinch, they don’t break
Just sip the lies, cut the steak
Lost their balls somewhere between betrayal and brunch
Sold out quick, didn’t even flinch at the punch
Big glass smiles, big bank rolls
Ain’t got a spine, but they got control
Used to have a voice, used to fight
Used to burn bright in the dead of night
But greed don’t care, greed won’t wait
One bite, one deal, one twisted fate
Hands too soft, hearts too cold
Swallowed whole by the weight of gold
No regret, no second guess
Just a life lived in excess
Lost their balls somewhere between betrayal and brunch
Sold out quick, didn’t even flinch at the punch
Big glass smiles, big bank rolls
Ain’t got a spine, but they got control
Was it power, was it fame?
Was it fear, was it the game?
Did they wake up and check the cost?
Or did they just forget what they lost?
So they sit high, sip real slow
Build their castles on what they owe
But dust don’t care, time don’t bend
And empires fall with the ones who pretend
Lost their balls somewhere between betrayal and brunch
Sold out quick, didn’t even flinch at the punch
Big glass smiles, big bank rolls
Ain’t got a spine, but they got control
Champagne flows, deals get made
Silver spoons carve what’s betrayed
Backs turned easy, voices hushed
Another empire built on trust

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

Betrayal & Brunch An Open Source Cover 4U

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

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