This one didn’t come easy. Some songs arrive loud and fast—this one stood still, waiting. I was walking through a secluded stretch of land in Alto, Texas, touring a property when I was introduced to something extraordinary: the largest red maple tree in the entire state, hidden away in quiet dignity. People around me were guessing how old she might be, and in that hush—beneath the pines, beside the old river—I felt the weight of time settle in. That tree didn’t just grow… she witnessed. And though I don’t usually claim to have conversations with trees, this one had something to say. Or maybe she just needed someone to listen. This song is my attempt to honor her silence with sound. A story not just about a tree, but about endurance, motherhood, memory, and all the things rooted deep beneath what we see.

Beneath the pines where the Angelina sighs,
Stands a queen in red, kissed by the sky.
Her roots run deep where the Caddo prayed,
Her rings hold the tears that the Cherokee laid.

She’s seen the dawn on a Spanish trail,
Heard a mother’s cry on a midnight gale.
Felt the earth shake when the oil men came,
But kept on growin’ through the joy and the pain.

Oh, Mother Maple, arms wide and true,
Droppin’ seeds like prayers in the East Texas blue.
Some took root, some flew out of sight,
But she loves ’em all in the hush of the night.
Through fire and flood, and time’s long slide,
She guards the ridge where the stories still hide.

When autumn calls, she burns so bright—
A scarlet hymn in the pale moonlight.
Winter strips her, but come the spring,
She’ll cradle the wrens, and the woodlands will sing.

If her wood could talk, oh the tales she’d share—
Of lovers and loners and unanswered prayers.
But she’s just a shadow in the pines so tall,
Whisperin’ nothin’—and that says it all.

Oh, Mother Maple, time’s own sweet bride,
Standin’ through the storms with her heart open wide.
Her children are scattered like dust on the wind,
But she’ll die where she started, in the soil they’re buried in.

One day they’ll find her laid down in the shade,
Her rings all silent, her debt all paid.
But the wind’ll still hum where her branches once swayed:
“I was here, I was love, I was nothin’ afraid.”

Recently, after I’d written these lyrics, someone said to me, “Part of the reason I talk to you is because you’re one of the least emotional decision-makers I know, yet you still understand emotion.” That struck a chord. In moments of urgency, when someone reaches out, there’s often no time for overthinking—only one decision truly matters: to show up.

This song was inspired by one of those moments, but it speaks to all the times a man is needed. Yes, we too wrestle with the worst-case scenarios our minds conjure up. We imagine all the possible storms waiting for us on the other end of that call. And someday, one of those storms might be real. But most of the time, the reality isn’t as dire as the fears we invent. Instead, the truth is something to face, something to solve, in its own time.

For now, what matters most isn’t fixing or figuring out—it’s simply being there. Because in the end, being there is what defines a man.

A sudden call breaks the quiet I hold dear
Her trembling voice says, “I need you here”
No details shared, just urgency and fear
I’m on my way; my path is clear

I’ll be there—no doubts, no demands
I’ll be there—with strength in my hands
A man is here to guard and guide
A quiet shield by your wounded side
I’ll be there

My mind may wander through darker things
Fears circling low on troubled wings
But I know these visions never tell the truth
I’m here to stand, protect, and soothe

If it’s a minor bruise or a heavy fall
I’m not here for questions—I answer the call
Your hurt, your fear, your silent plea
All vanish when you lean on me

I’ll be there—no words required
I’ll be there—even if I’m tired
A man stands firm in the raging storm
A solid place where hope is born
I’ll be there

When life tosses soft pitches or hurls them mean and hard
I’m standing tall, your watchful guard
One day the wounds may cut too deep
I’ll still be there, your soul to keep

I’ll be there—your harbor in the night
I’ll be there—your sword and light
No pride, no show, just who I am
A man who comes at your command
I’ll be there

Keep calling, soft or severe
This is what I’m made for, I’ll appear
I’m a man—
And I’m here

My memories of Key West were limited to a few whirlwind hours during a Disney Cruise stopover a decade and a half ago. I knew there had to be more to this sun-soaked paradise than a quick stroll and a slice of Key lime pie, but I had no idea what I was missing. So when Zane Lamprey—a comedian and award-winning TV show host—announced a two-day crawl there, I was 100% on board.

And let me tell you, it was an adventure for the ages! This song was totally inspired by a solo musician at General Horseplay, effortlessly stacking his own backing tracks before playing to an ever-growing crowd. It captures just a small slice of the unforgettable memories and tips its hat to one of Key West’s icons, Jimmy Buffett, with a “bubbles up” at the end. No, he wasn’t referring to drink bubbles in that song, but hey, this one’s for him!

Back in Key West, where the sun shines bright,
Not just passing through, we soaked up the light.
Joined a local crawl as the day began,
Exploring secrets with drink in hand.

Oh, rum and sun and endless cheer,
Margaritas flow and ice-cold beer.
With island rhythms and newfound friends,
The magic here just never ends.

We set sail on a sunset ride,
Watched the colors paint the ocean wide.
Played “Shut the Box” in a hidden bar,
Lost in the moment, forgot who we are.

Oh, rum and sun and endless cheer,
Margaritas flow and ice-cold beer.
With island rhythms and newfound friends,
The magic here just never ends.

Took over a bar with a rainbow glow,
Danced with strangers, now friends we know.
Found a tutu in colors so bright,
Wore it proudly into the night.

One-man bands with soulful tunes,
Serenading us under the moon.
Memories made as we raised our cups,
Here’s to adventures, never enough.

Oh, rum and sun and endless cheer,
Island vibes and friends so near.
These stories waiting to unfold,
Moments like these are yours to hold.

So when you feel that wanderlust erupt,
Embrace the journey—bubbles up!

This song was born from the seismic shift in America’s attitude—folks are just done taking the crap. Trump winning the popular vote? Yeah, definitely not on my election bingo card, and even the so-called “prediction markets” didn’t see that coming. But here we are.

At its core, this is a song for the rebels—the ones who’ve had enough and are ready to flip the script. With a punk edge and unapologetic attitude, it tells the story of a movement that’s tired of sitting on the sidelines. This time, the rebels are on the right side of wrong.

But don’t get it twisted: this isn’t about “making America great again.” It’s about pushing forward to a new future. One built on the strengths that got us here and tearing down the weaknesses that are suffocating the truths we need to face. It’s loud, it’s raw, and it’s ready to fight for what’s real.

They’re preachin’ shame, while they get their thrills,
Livin’ fat on the backs of the folks they kill.
They say, “Shut the fuck up, do what you’re told,”
But I ain’t a sheep, and I ain’t sold.
They want fear and silence, to control the game,
But we’re done with that shit, we’re fanning the flame.
From college halls to their tainted streams,
It’s time for real folks to burn it clean.

We ain’t goin’ back to your goddamn lies,
Where free speech dies and freedom cries.
We’re the rebels now, on the right side of wrong,
Goin’ full throttle, motherfucker, bring it on.
If you’re lost in the dark, better get a clue—
We’re buildin’ tomorrow for the rebel, white, and blue.

They call us garbage, say we’re a fuckin’ joke,
But we got more balls than half of these folks.
Tulsi, Elon, RFK got our back,
Think twice before you talk that smack.
This ain’t about left, right, or hate that’s cheap—
It’s about freedom, while they’re knee-deep in sheep.
You wanna stay blind, get stuck in their mess?
We’re blowin’ past that bullshit, no second guess.

We ain’t goin’ back to your goddamn lies,
Where free speech dies and freedom cries.
We’re the rebels now, on the right side of wrong,
Goin’ full throttle, motherfucker, bring it on.
If you’re lost in the dark, better get a clue—
We’re buildin’ tomorrow for the rebel, white, and blue.

Here’s to the ones who don’t sell their souls,
Who don’t kiss ass just to fit the mold.
We got mud on our boots and fire in our blood,
They preach about change? We’re bringin’ the flood.
They want us broken, they want us tame,
But we’re fed up with their damn shame game.
Four years to grind, to fight and fuckin’ rise,
We’re buildin’ a future right under their eyes.

We ain’t goin’ back to your goddamn lies,
Where free speech dies and freedom cries.
We’re the rebels now, on the right side of wrong,
Goin’ full throttle, motherfucker, bring it on.
If you’re lost in the dark, better get a clue—
We’re buildin’ tomorrow for the rebel, white, and blue.

This ain’t just a song; it’s a fuckin’ fight,
For the ones who rise, who’ll set it right.
America’s heart still beats damn strong,
One fuckin’ nation, and we’ll prove ‘em wrong.
So raise a damn glass, shout it loud and proud,
We’re takin’ back freedom, no backin’ down.
They call us rebels, well, fuck, that’s fine—
We’re here to fight, on our own damn time.

Summer vacations with the kids are at the heart of so many family traditions. This song is about that special place where families, big or small, return year after year. In this case, it happens to be “the end of the world”—Montauk, NY. But it’s more than just a story about a destination; it’s about how life changes, how time marches on, and how people come and go. In the end, we’re left wondering: do we remember the place, or does the place carry the echoes of us?

We packed the car like we always do,
Kids in the back, watching skies turn blue.
The road was long, but we didn’t mind,
Chasing a feeling we hoped we’d still find.
The laughter floats on a salty breeze,
Faces we love gathered by the sea.
But there’s a space now where someone once sat,
Time moves on, and we can’t change that.

Another summer, another tide,
We gather where the shoreline meets the sky,
Laughter fades, but echoes stay,
As the ones who’ve gone still feel a heartbeat away,
Montauk holds our laughter tight, through the rise and the fall,
And though we drift away, we’ll always hear its call.

We used to stay out late watching the stars,
Now we sit by the fire, remembering who we are.
Some are older, with new lives to live,
We’re all searching for the time we can’t give.
Places we knew have started to change,
But the heart of it all somehow feels the same.
Though the years go by and things rearrange,
Montauk still carries the weight of our names.

Another summer, another tide,
We gather where the shoreline meets the sky,
Laughter fades, but echoes stay,
As the ones who’ve gone still feel a heartbeat away,
Montauk holds our laughter tight, through the rise and the fall,
And though we drift away, we’ll always hear its call.

The faces around us grow fewer with time,
But the memories we’ve made still linger in line.
This place we return to knows every year,
It keeps holding on to what we hold dear.

Another summer, another tide,
We gather where the shoreline meets the sky,
Laughter fades, but echoes stay,
As the ones who’ve gone still feel a heartbeat away,
Montauk holds our laughter tight, through the rise and the fall,
And though we drift away, we’ll always hear its call.

Montauk still remembers, even when we’re gone,
In the crash of the waves, it keeps holding on.

When Tropical Storm Debby, Hurricane Helene, and Hurricane Milton threatened Florida, most assumed the Sunshine State would bear the brunt of the weather. But in a shocking twist, it was North Carolina—particularly the mountain town of Asheville—that faced devastating impacts. This song is a heartfelt tribute to the resilience of Asheville’s people and their neighbors, who stood strong in the face of Hurricane Helene’s fury.

It captures the raw emotions of loss and frustration as communities waited for government aid that arrived too late, if at all. Yet, at its core, it celebrates the everyday heroes—the neighbors, friends, and strangers—who rose to the challenge. They remind us all that when the world falls apart, it’s not the systems but the spirit of the people that keeps hope alive. This is their anthem, their story, and their triumph.

The sky turned black, the wind howled loud,
As Helene came tearing through our quiet town,
The rivers rose, the streets gave way,
But we held on tight, we’re here to stay.
The promises came, but help was slow,
So we looked to the faces that we’ve come to know.
Mothers and fathers, sons and friends,
Together we’ll rebuild, we won’t let it end.

We cried out in the rain, but no one heard the sound,
So we picked up the pieces from the flooded ground.

When Helene came roaring through Asheville’s hills,
The waters took our homes, but couldn’t break our will,
The government’s stumbling, slow to arrive,
But the heart of America is keeping us alive.
Neighbors lifting neighbors, hand in hand we stand,
In the face of the storm, we’re building this land.
Through the tears and the loss, hope’s still burning bright,
‘Cause the mountain folk find strength in the darkest night.

The church bells rang through the morning haze,
And we gathered together, giving thanks and praise.
A farmer brought food, a stranger lent a hand,
Side by side, we make our final stand.
We don’t need a title, we don’t need fame,
We’re just ordinary people with hearts untamed.
From the wreckage and the rubble, we rise once more,
This is our home—Asheville’s worth fighting for.

No FEMA trucks rolling down these winding roads,
But the spirit of these mountains carries heavy loads.

When Helene came roaring through Asheville’s hills,
The waters took our homes, but couldn’t break our will,
The government’s stumbling, slow to arrive,
But the heart of America is keeping us alive.
Neighbors lifting neighbors, hand in hand we stand,
In the face of the storm, we’re building this land.
Through the tears and the loss, hope’s still burning bright,
‘Cause the mountain folk find strength in the darkest night.

There’s a fire in the eyes of those who’ve seen it all,
You can knock us down, but we’ll never fall.
With every sunrise over the Blue Ridge line,
We find a way to rebuild, to heal, to shine.

When Helene came roaring through Asheville’s hills,
The waters took our homes, but couldn’t break our will,
The government’s stumbling, slow to arrive,
But the heart of America is keeping us alive.
Neighbors lifting neighbors, hand in hand we stand,
In the face of the storm, we’re building this land.
Through the tears and the loss, hope’s still burning bright,
‘Cause the mountain folk find strength in the darkest night.

Yeah, the mountain folk find strength in the darkest night,
In Asheville, we rise, we never lose sight.