My Shit Kicking.... Sunday Best ©

The story — in my words

I wrote this song at a crossroads where the subway whistles finally started sounding like cages. There’s a specific kind of liberation that happens when you trade those grayscale city mornings for a Texas sun that actually feels like it’s looking out for you. We cut this track to capture that feeling of being born again in a pair of scuffed leather boots. I wanted to bridge the gap between the hallowed pews of my childhood and the sawdust dancefloors of my life now. It’s about the realization that the dirt here tastes more like prayer than anything I found in the stone canyons up north. We brought in that honey-thick drawl and a rhythm that feels like kicking the dust off a tired soul, celebrating a life that’s finally bigger than my circumstances.