Lyrics by Grace and Preston

Music by Preston "Ryan" Makanani Ho'omauhanamaikai Normandy

It’s a hot night, feels like home
My feet don’t clear the road
I have no years to call my own
But I’ll go until my body won’t

I’m a beast of habit
It’s the only way I’d have it
Every tick every hole is just another familiar soul.

CHORUS:
I’m the master of my trade
Through tricks I learned and mistakes I’ve made
I’ve paid the gold to earn this name
And you can’t take that away

There’s nothing more comforting to me
Than the blanket of routine
I want to wrap it around me and only breath what it lets me

I’m the master of my trade
Through battles fought and a line of graves
I’ve paved the road to mark my fame
And they can’t take that away

Why should I strive to shine the hide
Of a joke of a man with pyrite pride
Who bites at his lines like a spoon-fed child
And he can take it away

No
Not me
I swear…

How
Why me
I swear…

Every hot night feels like home..