I’m Walking Out That Door ©

The story — in my words

I wrote this one after spending too many nights watching good people get drained by someone else's habit. I was sitting in a dim corner of a pub in North London, watching the light from the fruit machine bounce off a woman’s face while her partner just begged for one more fiver. You could feel the weight she was carrying—that 'dead-cut weed' feeling of a relationship that’s just dried up. We cut the track with a gritty, Soul edge because it needed that snap of a heel on concrete. It isn't just a breakup song; it’s about that specific, cold moment of clarity where you realize you aren't a bankroll for someone else's grief anymore. I wanted the listener to feel the engine turn over as she finally steps on the pedal.