The dreams that haunt u at night, the incidents we responded to that come back time after time... those are borrowed demons and not our own. There is a darkness that walks the earth and it takes lives. We are there at just the right time and the wrong one for these shadows attach themselves and torment us sometimes for years. There is prayer, there is counsel, but sometimes you just have to stand up and scream at them.

To My Wife,

This year tested us.

It tested our patience, our strength, our endurance, and at times even our peace. There were moments when the weight felt heavier than either of us expected. There were battles inside our home and outside of it. There were storms that did not ask permission before they rolled in. And yet, here we stand.

Still side by side.

What I want you to know, more than anything, is this: I never once doubted us.

I have doubted circumstances. I have questioned timing. I have wrestled with decisions. But I have never doubted the woman standing next to me. You have been steady when I was restless. You have been calm when I was fired up. You have grounded me when my mind ran ahead of my heart. And in a year that could have splintered weaker bonds, you tightened yours around mine.

We have lived a full life, Brandi. Not an easy one. A full one. We have raised children, fought for dreams, faced critics, buried disappointments, celebrated victories, and carried responsibilities most people will never understand. The gray in our hair is not age. It is evidence. It is honor.

You are still my best friend.

After all the miles, all the highways, all the fires and floods, all the nights under Texas skies, I would choose you again. I would choose this life again. I would choose every scar and every smile because it meant I got to walk it with you.

This song is a reflection of our road. But this letter is my promise.

I am still here.
I am still yours.
And I am still in this, hand in hand, for every mile ahead.

Happy Valentine’s Day, my love.

Forever,
Eddy

Double talk and psycho-babble. It iss all I hear anymore. They scream about rights and want my gone, they say children are precious and let doctors hack them to pieces. They want unity birthed by decisive words and scream over logic. I am tired of it all. No more in my America!

“Tangled Up in the Tinsel” was written partly because I had a lot of fun doing something my kids find absolutely disgusting… writing an unapologetically romantic Christmas song about their mom. It leans into the playful, mushy side of being in love during the holidays, where twinkle lights, decorations, and quiet moments together turn into excuses to flirt, laugh, and steal kisses while everyone else is distracted by wrapping paper and chaos.

The song uses Christmas as the backdrop, but the real subject is my wife and the joy of being tangled up in life with her; literally and figuratively. The tinsel, the lights, the decorations all become metaphors for a relationship that’s messy, warm, and full of shared history. It’s intentionally over-the-top in its affection, the kind of thing that makes kids roll their eyes and say, “Dad, that’s gross,” which honestly makes it even better.

At its heart, this song is a celebration of marriage, love that’s still fun, and choosing each other again and again; especially during Christmas. It’s a reminder that amid traditions, stress, and noise, there’s something deeply grounding about being wrapped up in the person you love… even if it embarrasses your children just a little.

This song is written in my voice as a warning and a call; rooted in the same fire that burned in Patrick Henry’s words. I deliberately wove his language into the lyrics because those words were never meant to stay buried in history books. They were spoken for moments like this. This song is my way of standing in that lineage, reminding anyone who still understands sacrifice, liberty, and responsibility why those words mattered then… and why they matter now.

It is a cry to those who know our history and feel the unease of watching it repeat. To those who sense that comfort has made us complacent and silence has become the price of peace. This song speaks to men and women who recognize that freedom is not self-sustaining, that it requires courage, conviction, and a willingness to stand when standing is unpopular.

Above all, it is a call to rise up; not in chaos, but in righteousness. To fight for what is right, godly, and honorable. To reject apathy, reclaim moral clarity, and remember that liberty was never free, never guaranteed, and never meant to be surrendered quietly.

While the IDF marches on...cowboys pray.

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A  different type of song, I found myself in awe of the connection between  our family's faith and history and what has been happening in Israel.  Since the October 7th attack, life has been somehow different in our  home right here in Texas. Each Sabbath as we light the candles, we are  reminded that the miles are no distance at all and that Adonai is in  control and as powerful as He always was despite what is happening on  the streets of America and in Israel.

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From the Red Sea to the Rio Grande, the Lion of Judah roars.

His enemies will not stand.

I wrote  Signed, Still Proud as a letter to my son; not just a song. It’s my way  of putting into words what most parents of soldiers carry quietly in  their hearts: pride, faith, fear, and an unshakable belief that our  children are walking the path they were meant to walk.

Watching  my son put on the uniform and take his place in a line of men before  him reminded me that legacy isn’t about what we leave behind; it’s about  who carries it forward.

This  song came from the silence of late nights; the kind when the house is  still, the news is on, and you can’t help but think about where your  child is in the world. Every word is a prayer and a promise. It’s about  knowing that even though he’s grown, and even though the world can be  harsh and uncertain, he’s never out of the reach of his family’s love or  God’s protection.

Signed,  Still Proud isn’t just for my son. It’s for every parent who’s ever  stood in a doorway watching a child drive away to serve; torn between  heartbreak and pride. It’s for the mothers who light candlesin Forge  Lanterns, the fathers who write letters they can’t quite finish, and the  families who live by faith while their sons and daughters stand by  duty. It’s my letter to him, and in a way, it’s my letter to them all.

Be  American Again is a hard-rock-country-rap anthem forged in frustration,  sharpened by truth, and fueled by righteous anger. It’s the voice of a  nation pushed to its breaking point —; a cry from the heart of a man  who’s watched faith, family, and freedom crumble under the weight of  apathy and political games.

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This song doesn’t tiptoe around controversy. It storms through it.

From the  loss of moral grounding to the chaos in our streets, E.G. Weiss takes  listeners on a raw journey from sorrow to fury; calling out hypocrisy,  corruption, and cultural decay. Yet beneath the anger burns a message of  redemption: a call to return to God, to rebuild the family, and to  reclaim what it truly means to be American again.

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Gritty,  unapologetic, and hauntingly honest, “Be American Again” isn’t just a  song... it’s a battle cry for a generation that’s tired of watching  their country fall asleep at the wheel.

“Mission  Ready” is more than a song; it’s a prayer set to music. Written by E.G.  Weiss, this piece captures the quiet strength and courage of a mother  watching her son answer the call to serve. Inspired by his wife’s heart  and resilience, the song tells the story of both a soldier’s journey and  a family’s faith, woven together by love, sacrifice, and the unshakable  belief that God watches over them all.

When  their son entered the military, Weiss’s wife transformed her own  mixture of pride and fear into purpose, founding an organization called  Mission Ready to support other families walking the same path. Her  compassion and courage became the heartbeat of this song; a tribute to  the unsung heroes who stand behind every soldier: the mothers, fathers,  and loved ones who quietly shoulder the weight of waiting and praying.

At the heart of “Mission Ready” lies a verse from Psalm 4:8:

“In peace I will both lie down and sleep, for you alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety.”

These  words echo as a nightly prayer whispered by a mother who entrusts her  son’s safety to God’s hands—an anthem of peace amidst uncertainty.

The  song also references the forge lantern, a powerful symbol in the Weiss  home. Hanging on the porch, the lantern burns as a reminder of faith,  hope, and the fire that tempers the spirit. Just as metal is refined in  the forge, so too are hearts strengthened through love, prayer, and  perseverance. It stands as a beacon; for their son, for all who serve,  and for the families who keep the light burning until their loved ones  return home.

While  every song I write carries personal meaning, “Mission Ready” reaches  deeper. It is not only a family’s prayer; it is every family’s prayer  for the sons and daughters who put on the uniform, and for the loved  ones who stand watch from home.

“Momma’s Prayer” is the song that took me the longest to write because it demanded honesty, patience, and reverence. It accompanies the book as its emotional spine, telling the story of a prodigal son making his way home at Christmas; carrying regret, hope, and the quiet fear of whether he will be received. The song moves slowly and deliberately, mirroring the long road back and the weight of choices that can’t be undone, only forgiven.

At its heart, the song explores different kinds of love and forgiveness. There is the mother’s love… steady, prayerful, and unwavering; spoken not in confrontation but in whispered hope. There is grace that waits without conditions, forgiveness that doesn’t require explanations, and mercy that arrives before words are ever spoken. Christmas becomes more than a season; it becomes the moment when brokenness meets welcome.

This song is about coming home; not just to a house, but to grace. It reflects the truth that sometimes the greatest acts of love are invisible: a prayer said in the dark, a light left on, a door that never closed. “Momma’s Prayer” is ultimately a testimony to redemption, to the power of forgiveness, and to the kind of love that believes long before it sees.

In my  line of work, I cross paths with people most never will; celebrities,  politicians, and those who hold real influence and power. For a wife at  home, that can be daunting. It can plant seeds of doubt, stir  uncertainty, and make her wonder if she still holds the same place in my  heart.

I won’t  pretend to be the perfect husband. I get caught up in the job, in the  mission, in the bigger fight. Sometimes, I forget the little things:  flowers, compliments, simple words to remind her she’s the most  beautiful woman in the world to me. And I failed her in that way not too  long ago.

When  Kristi Noem became America's Secretary of Homeland Security, I found  myself admiring her strength, her leadership, and her fight to rescue  our country from years of neglect. I’ll admit, I was captivated. And  like a typical knuckle-headed husband, I didn’t realize how intimidating  that must have been for my wife.

So, in  an effort to set her heart and mind at ease; an effort that, thankfully,  worked. I wrote My Secretary of Home and Security. Because no matter  where I go, who I meet, or what battles I fight, there is only one woman  who holds my heart, my home, and my security.

I wrote  The Awakening because I’m tired. Tired of watching a generation of  children grow up as targets instead of treasures. Tired of school  hallways falling silent to prayer, classrooms that skip the Pledge of  Allegiance, and a nation where more kids know TikTok dances than the  words to The Star-Spangled Banner. I wrote it because somewhere along  the line, we let comfort replace courage, and we’ve paid for it in  truth, in character, and in the quiet surrender of our American soul.

This is  more than a song... it’s a wake-up call. A battle hymn for families who  still believe in God’s purpose for this land. It’s a declaration that  our faith, our families, and our country are not up for negotiation.  While politicians lie through smiles and the media numbs us with noise,  our currency still boldly proclaims In God We Trust. And that’s no  accident. It’s a reminder of the foundation we were given—and the one  we’re called to protect.

The  Awakening is for the parents who are tired of compromise, the veterans  who remember what sacrifice means, the teachers who still bow their  heads in quiet, and the kids who deserve to grow up with a sense of  purpose and pride. It's not about politics; it's about calling America  back to its core. Back to the God who gave us this land, and the courage  to defend it. This is our awakening.

And it starts with a song.

Written  for my wife, Brandi Leigh, Through Every Storm is more than just a song;  it’s a testament to love, resilience, and unwavering devotion. From the  earliest days of our relationship, I called her my "sunshine," and she  has lived up to that name in every way.

Together,  we’ve faced loss; children, friends, homes, and hard-earned money.  We’ve stood in the aftermath of disasters both personal and natural,  from fires and floods to tornadoes and hurricanes. Through it all, she  never wavered, never quit, and never let me walk away. Even in the  darkest moments, she remained my constant, my anchor, my reason to keep  going.

This song is for the woman who stood beside me, through every storm.

“You  Left Me” is a raw and deeply personal tribute to my father, who passed  away in July of 2021. In the early days of my grief, I could only feel  the emptiness; the aching silence left behind where his voice used to  be. The title came from that primal, soul-shattering cry: “You left me!”  It’s what I wanted to scream into the night sky, over and over, trying  to make sense of the pain.

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But as  time moved forward slowly, stubbornly,  I began to see something I  couldn’t see through the tears. He hadn’t just left. He had left me with  strength. With wisdom. With memories that now serve as a compass. Every  lesson, every conversation, every quiet example he set. They were  pieces of him he left behind, so I’d never be truly without him.

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This  song carries both the heartbreak of that initial loss and the reverence  for what remains. It’s for anyone who's ever felt the sting of absence,  but has come to realize that love, when planted deep, doesn’t vanish; it  grows roots in us. “You Left Me” is not just a cry of grief; it’s an  anthem of quiet inheritance. Of legacy.

It was  only fair that I left a song for my boys. But writing this one was  tough; there was so much I wanted to say. In the end, I chose one  message: A Warrior's Legacy.

There  are times when a man, a real man, must be heard. He must stand up,  defend, fight, and when necessary, destroy. Strength, courage, and  resilience are the hallmarks of a warrior. But there are also times when  a man must know it is just as honorable to open his heart, to feel, to  be gentle, and yes... to cry.

If my  boys take anything from me, I hope it’s this. I’ve raised them to be  warriors, to stand unshaken in the face of battle. But I also hope they  never forget that true strength is found not just in the fight, but in  knowing when to lay down the sword.

This song is my hope... that long after I am gone, the world will still hear their warrior’s cry.

E.G.  Weiss’ latest release, Old Enough To Know Better, is more than just a  song; it’s an angry battle cry for a country that’s lost its backbone.  Written specifically for The Old Enough To Know Better Podcast, this  hard-hitting country rock anthem embodies the grit, sarcasm, and  patriotism that have made the show a favorite among responders,  veterans, and unapologetically American listeners across the nation.

The Old  Enough To Know Better Podcast, hosted by E.G. Weiss, is a no-nonsense  blend of hard truth and raw humor. Each episode takes aim at the  political pandering, cultural confusion, and bureaucratic nonsense that  have left America spinning its wheels. Weiss brings the same candor to  his music that he does to his microphone mixing storytelling, rebellion,  and reflection into a single, unapologetic voice that challenges  America to stand up, speak up, and act its age.

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Old  Enough To Know Better isn’t just a title; it’s a declaration. With the  grit of outlaw country and the punch of southern rock, the song reminds  us that wisdom doesn’t come from hashtags or headlines... it’s earned  through scars, service, and experience. It’s a song for those who still  believe in hard work, faith, and responsibility and who are tired of  watching a nation that should know better forget who it’s supposed to  be.

This is a  song I wrote for my mother, who is nothing short of an incredible  prayer warrior. I know beyond a doubt that I wouldn't be here today,  blessed with everything I have, if it weren't for her constant, faithful  prayers. When I wrote this song, I imagined my life like a movie; full  of struggles, battles, and attacks from the devil, attacks I allowed  time and time again.

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In  today’s world, so many parents would have given up on me long ago, but  my mother never did. Not for a single day. She stood in the gap, praying  for me even when I wasn’t aware of it or when I didn't deserve it.  Scripture tells us that the devil prowls the earth, seeking those he can  devour. He preys... but thankfully, My Momma Prays Too.

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Satan's got nothin' on my mom and I am here today to prove it.

“This Is God’s Country” is an angry, unapologetic song born from watching people tear at something sacred without understanding how it was built; or who carried the cost to get us here. It comes from a place of frustration with those who enjoy the blessings of this country while dismissing its history, its sacrifices, and the faith that shaped its foundation.

The song confronts the arrogance of rewriting the past, ignoring the price of freedom, and treating this nation as disposable. It’s a reminder that this land wasn’t handed to us lightly; it was earned through faith, blood, hard work, and an unshakable belief in something bigger than ourselves.

At its core, “This Is God’s Country” is a line drawn in the dirt. It’s a call to remember, to respect, and to stop pretending that what we have came from nothing. Angry, yes, but rooted in reverence for a country that was built with purpose, guided by faith, and sustained by sacrifice.

“Believe in Christmas” is a song about returning to the simple, quiet beauty of the season; the kind that doesn’t need spectacle to feel powerful. It reflects how Christmas has a way of softening the heart, slowing the pace of life, and reminding us of what truly matters. The song leans into small moments: warm lights in the window, familiar voices, and the sense of peace that settles over a home when love is present.

Spiritually, the song captures the gentle magic of Christmas; the way hope feels closer, grace feels tangible, and faith feels personal. It’s about believing not just in a holiday, but in what the season awakens within us: generosity, humility, forgiveness, and wonder. There’s an innocence to that belief, a childlike trust that something good and holy is at work, even when the world outside feels heavy.

At its core, “Believe in Christmas” is an invitation to open the heart and the home. To set aside distractions and remember that Christmas doesn’t arrive through perfection or excess, but through love, light, and belief. It’s a reminder that when we choose to believe, the season has the power to quietly transform everything around us.

“Chaos at Christmas” is a straight-from-the-household anthem about what the holidays really look like in my world; loud, messy, hilarious, and completely out of control. The song pulls no punches, calling out the madness of my life and my insane children by name, turning everyday family chaos into a soundtrack that anyone with a full house will instantly recognize.

It’s personal and unapologetic, built on real moments: the noise, the arguments, the laughter, the confusion, and the constant motion that somehow defines Christmas morning. Instead of trying to make the season look calm or picture-perfect, the song leans into the truth; Christmas can be wild, unpredictable, and barely held together with duct tape and coffee.

At its core, “Chaos at Christmas” is a celebration of family in all its beautiful disorder. It’s a fun, high-energy holiday tune that says love doesn’t live in silence or symmetry; it lives in the noise, the names shouted across the house, and the shared insanity that somehow makes Christmas unforgettable.

“Wide Open Graces” is a deeply personal worship song born on the wide, open plains of Texas, where the land stretches farther than the eye can see and the sky feels close enough to touch. Out there, surrounded by wind, grass, and endless horizon, I’m reminded how small I am—and how overwhelming God’s presence can be. The openness of the land has a way of stripping everything else away and bringing me to my knees in humility and awe.

The song weaves together the beauty of nature with the reality of grace, reflecting how God speaks through creation as clearly as He does through Scripture. The plains become a sanctuary, the sky a cathedral, and the quiet a conversation with the Almighty. It’s worship without walls, where gratitude rises naturally and reverence feels unavoidable.

At its heart, “Wide Open Graces” is about relationship—recognizing God not as distant, but present, generous, and patient. It’s a Texas worship song in the truest sense, rooted in the land, shaped by faith, and offered as a humble response to grace that feels as wide and endless as the country itself.

This song was written out of disbelief and heartbreak because I can no longer fathom why some men and women still choose to stand in the streets every day, facing hatred, protestors, and venom from the very people they are sworn to protect. Watching our nation’s heroes be brutalized, vilified, and reduced to symbols of everything that’s wrong has been sickening, and this song comes from sitting with that weight and refusing to look away.

Rather than shouting back at the anger, the song tries to answer the deeper question: why do they still show up? It explores the quiet, often unseen reason behind the uniform; the sense of duty that goes beyond approval, applause, or comfort. It’s about the resolve to stand the line not for today’s praise, but for tomorrow’s safety.

Ultimately, this song is for who follows us. It’s written for the children watching from windows, the future generations who will inherit whatever we choose to defend or abandon. It’s a reminder that some still stand not because it’s easy or appreciated, but because someone has to… so others don’t have to later.

“A Black Sheep Is Still a Sheep” is a deeply personal and confrontational song that comes from frustration, hurt, and hard-earned honesty. It asks why the church so often treats the “black sheep” as disposable or unworthy, forgetting that they are still part of the flock. The song wrestles openly with anger, not as rebellion against faith, but as a plea for it; calling out hypocrisy where grace should live.

At its core, the song questions what happened to the Great Commission. When did loving the lost become conditional? When did judgment replace invitation? The lyrics challenge the idea that the church gets to decide who is acceptable, who is redeemable, and who is allowed to belong, asking hard questions about the church’s purpose if it selectively opens the doors to heaven.

Though raw and pointed, the song is ultimately a question, not a verdict. It turns the mirror back on the church and asks it to answer—to remember its calling, its compassion, and its responsibility. “A Black Sheep Is Still a Sheep” is a reminder that grace was never meant to be rationed, and that the flock was always meant to be bigger than comfort allows

This song is a simple reflection of gratitude; those quiet moments when I stop and realize how blessed I am to live in Texas. It’s about the land, the freedom, and the people, and the way all three come together to create a place that feels rooted, honest, and alive. There’s no grand statement here, just appreciation.

The song captures that sense of standing back and taking it all in—the open spaces, the independence, the shared values, and the everyday beauty that’s easy to overlook. It’s a nod to a way of life that still values freedom, hard work, and community.

At its heart, the song is just a thank-you. A reminder that sometimes blessing doesn’t shout... it simply exists, wide and steady, like the land itself.

Everyone was screaming about ICE they hardly noticed it was 10 degrees in Texas. I thought it was the end of the world and so did a lot of others... it lasted two days.

“Whispers of Strength” is deeply personal, written from moments when PTSD feels overwhelming... when nightmares tighten their grip, memories rush back uninvited, and the present and future seem to disappear into smoke. It reflects the quiet battles responders fight long after the sirens fade, when strength isn’t loud and survival is measured breath by breath.

This song is about meeting that darkness with faith. Not with easy answers or forced positivity, but with the steady truth that God is bigger than the nightmares, bigger than the memories, and bigger than the fear that tries to take hold. His presence isn’t always a shout; sometimes it’s a whisper that reminds me I’m not alone.

At its core, “Whispers of Strength” is a reminder that even in the deepest moments of struggle, there is a strength that doesn’t come from within ourselves. It’s about grace that holds, faith that steadies, and a God who stands with responders in the night as surely as He does in the light.

“Chasing The High” is a tribute song written from the privilege of walking beside Richard T. Sanchez while helping him tell his life story. After living inside his biography; his pain, his victories, his losses... this song became my way of honoring the man behind the pages. It reflects a life forged in hardship and tempered by honor, where strength wasn’t inherited but earned through sacrifice and resilience.

The song captures the duality of who Richard is: a warrior who knows pain intimately, yet never let it define him; a man driven not by glory, but by purpose. It speaks to his loyalty as a friend, his devotion as a husband, and the quiet pride of a father who understands what truly matters when the noise fades.

At its core, “Chasing The High” isn’t about adrenaline or the rush of the fight; it’s about chasing meaning. It’s a song of respect, brotherhood, and deep gratitude for a man who endured, stood tall, and continues to lead with integrity. A warrior through and through.

If you  want stress in your life, have daughters. From the moment a little girl  is born, a father wants to build her a castle, shield her from the  world, and hold onto the way she looks up at him with pure admiration.  But as she grows more beautiful by the day, reality sets in; someday,  someone else will notice. And in the blink of an eye, with the slip of a  wedding ring, she’ll be gone.

It’s terrifying.

So what  do I leave for them? What will they hold onto when I’m no longer here?  My answer was this song—something to remind them not just of how much I  love them, but of where they come from and who they are.

Because  the truth is, it’s not me who made them what they are. I’ve had the  privilege of protecting them, of watching them grow, but their strength,  their fire, comes from something greater. They are as fierce as the  flag that waves over this country and as faithful as the mother who  raised them.

This  song is for my daughters. May they always know their worth, their  heritage, and just how proud their father is to be a part of their  story.

“The Men  of the Arena” marks a powerful detour from my usual songwriting style; a  harder, louder, and more unapologetic anthem aimed squarely at honoring  America’s real heroes. My own personal listening world has seen a  revival of Three Doors Down and Creed and this is perhaps where the  "angry" sound is coming from. It may also be that I wrote this during  the 2025 Government shutdown at Fort Benning surrounded by soldiers  while Illinois was threatening to arrest ICE agents.

Many of  my songs reflect stories of heart, faith, and grit, this one demanded  something heavier. It’s a rallying cry for those who put everything on  the line; our soldiers, firefighters, cops on the beat, border patrol  agents, and every responder who walks into danger while the rest of the  world looks away. I have been a apart of that world for so long and my  heart is breaking everyday.

The  lyrics were difficult but I was glad I captured the words from my  favorite T. Roosevelt speech, "The man in the arena" from 1910.

In this  song, I wanted to capture that raw defiance that lives inside every man  and woman of service; the kind that keeps them going despite the critics  throwing stones from the sidelines. The tone is grittier, the guitars  hit harder, and the message pulls no punches. It’s not about politics or  glory; it’s about respect for those who don’t just talk about courage,  but live it every day in the arena where it counts.

“The Men  of the Arena” is both a tribute and a challenge; a call for Americans  to stand up, raise their voices, and back the people who still believe  in duty, sacrifice, and honor. These are the ones who keep the line  held, who protect our homes, our streets, and our borders, even when  appreciation is in short supply. This song is for them... a salute to  the warriors among us who still carry the weight of freedom on their  shoulders.

Sometimes the only wayto describe how I feel about my wife is to write a song. She is a gift and my treasure and I love that we keep falling in love over and over again.