Lyrics I Lived First
Mirror work — meets meltdown — meets magick
(Scroll down for song lyrics)
🖤 GORGEOUS was my first full album — Lyrics live in its own tab.
Now I’m writing FVNERAL
It’s not just an album. It’s a burial.
Each song is a ghost, a Major Arcana Tarot card reversed —
a false self built to survive.
You’ll also find standalone songs here —
about mirrors and magick, rage and release, trauma and more.
Every one of them was a spell I needed at the time.
Maybe one of them is for you, too.
I’m slowly adding lyrics to everything I’ve made. The music is streaming on all platforms.
If you’re here reading — thank you.
The other pages?
Just bones I left behind for anyone still digging.
Always writing more. Check back in — I’m a Scorpio. I die often, update accordingly, and if that fails, I die again.
Crow holds the FVNERAL gate.
Leave the light on
Neophyte – Lyrics
Neophyte is a trance-state initiation song by Loui Crow, born from a right-eye mirror ritual. In deep stillness, my skin began rendering like code, blinking stopped, and the veil dropped. With the chant “Somblen Wetcha,” this track seals a rite of will, flame, and becoming. A sonic mirror for those who cross alone.
WIFEY GOT A GOOD LIFE – Lyrics
Wifey Got a Good Life—a love song rooted in mess, memory, and staying through the storm. It captures the quiet joy of a life co-built: cold rice on the stove, laughter in the kitchen, a child drawing on the wall. The moment holds because love held first. This isn’t a dream—it’s the real thing, and it hums from the inside out.
I AM ALFIE (THE BLACK PIG INSIDE) – Lyrics
A stuffed pig named Alfie once offered comfort. Now she returns as black flame, bent-eared and unashamed. This is the lyric blog for I Am Alfie (The Black Pig Inside)—a ritual of hunger reclaimed, rage remembered, and softness reborn in mud. Shame becomes drumbeat. Craving becomes law. The girl who danced in secret doesn’t ask anymore. She stomps. She wants. She stays.
Sorry Was a Spell (Bury the Ghost)
This piece cracks open the word “sorry” and lays its ghost to rest. It follows a moment between strangers—a girl at a train station and the version of myself that met her gaze and remembered. The blog carries a full-body ritual, a breakdown of how “sorry” implants itself in our voice, and a vow to speak louder anyway. This is about shedding shame and taking up air.
Flame in a Paper House (For Brooklynn)
This is a vow song. A lyrical fire for Brooklynn—and every soft soul trained to dim their light. It’s grief turned to rhythm, silence turned to vow. For the ones who didn’t pull over. For the ache of loving what you couldn’t save. If you saw something sacred flicker out and still feel it burning in your ribs—this flame’s for you.
Blueberry Loves You – Lyrics
This is a song for the body—for the cells that ache, the joints that burn, the brain fog that weighs heavy. "Blueberry Loves You" is a medicinal love song, sung from the voice of the fruit itself, entering the bloodstream like a spell. It names the invisible work of healing, soothing, restoring. It’s not a recipe—it’s a prayer in verse form.
BECAUSE I SAID SO – Lyrics
This song is my reckoning. BECAUSE I SAID SO came from the gap between how I was showing up and who I wanted to be. It’s the sound of me catching myself mid-script, mid-yell, mid-trigger—and choosing something different. I didn’t write this from theory—I wrote it from the floor, holding the weight of my own voice.
CRANKY GREMLIN: Moving Up The Emotional Scale — Lyrics
This blog is the sonic ritual for anyone waking up dysregulated, overstimulated, and already overwhelmed. Based on the Abraham Hicks emotional scale and the original blog Cranky Little Gremlin, this song guides you from swamp to spark—one inch, one breath, one rhythm at a time. It doesn’t fake positivity. It honors the chaos while gently inviting movement.
SARAH (Funeral for a Ghost) – Lyrics
This blog is the lyrical eulogy for SARAH—the ghost self who survived by vanishing. It tells the story of a girl who performed peace, smiled through pain, and died inward so the future could breathe. Through lyrics, ritual, and somatic breakdown, this piece names the cost of self-erasure and the beauty of walking away. It's not about shame—it’s about release, choice, and fire.
MARROW – Lyrics For The Survivors
This blog holds the full lyrics and ritual spell for MARROW, a rap-metal exorcism of a ghost self born from pelvic shame, forced submission, and silent obedience. It names the flinch, maps the memory, and buries the ghost that once performed “yes” to survive. The body becomes the altar, the voice becomes the flame. Readers walk away with a scream in their palm and a ritual to reclaim their hips.
INTEGRITY CHECK (Before I Scroll) – Lyrics
This is a body-level oath disguised as a song. INTEGRITY CHECK isn’t about performance—it’s a sacred pause before your nervous system reenacts the old flinch. Written by a military-trained mind with a prophet’s heart, it teaches you to scan your breath instead of the feed. This blog breaks down the lyrics, the ritual, and the real meaning of integrity—when no one’s watching but your mirror.
FUNERAL SELFIE – Post the Grief. Bury the Ghost.
This blog reveals the grief ritual behind FUNERAL SELFIE, a scream with eyeliner and dirt in her teeth. It breaks down what “cringe” really is—a flinch, a body-based shame pattern, and a ghost that feeds on silence. With lyrics, body-spell ritual, and affirmation, this piece invites you to rake the shame, name the pain, and post the proof. You’ll leave with dirt under your nails and your voice intact.
RAKE AND STICK (FOR EVERY MOTHER AND FATHER WHO HELD IT IN) – Lyrics
This blog digs into the silence shaped by survival. Loui Crow wields the rake and the stick as ritual tools—unearthing what was buried, and swinging what was never allowed to scream. Part lyrical offering, part body-spell, this piece turns inherited weight into rhythm, movement, and breath. It’s a thunder cry of love for the ones who never got to let it out.
I’m Gonna Get My Stick - Lyrics
This is a love song for the fathers who didn’t know how to cry.
A rhythm born from silence, survival, and the weight of lineage.
The stick becomes a symbol of what shaped us—then a ritual tool for what frees us.
Through stomp, chant, and verse, I dance the grief they never could.
Every beat is a vow to move what stayed locked in their bones.
WHERE ARE THE MOTHERS – Lyrics
This blog holds the spell of a mother who chooses not to pass it down. I wrote it in the aftermath of a hard moment, with breath still shaking in my ribs. These lyrics track the pattern of rage, restraint, and repair—the sacred loop of staying present in fire without becoming it. I offer this for anyone who has ever stormed, returned, and chosen love with mud still on their boots.
I AM THE RAKE – Lyrics
This is what I wrote instead of screaming.
The rake moved what my mouth couldn’t say.
It dug through the grief I didn’t name—but still felt, still carried, still almost passed on.
It’s a rhythm for the ones who inherited the storm and chose to break the cycle with their body.
Not against the ones who came before—but for them.
For the love that was buried beneath duty.
For the softness that never got spoken.
I swing to clear space for that.
This is how I till the field and return with love.
✦ THE ONLY WAY OUT IS THROUGH ✦ – Lyrics
This is the birth story of our son—and of every truth born through pain. It’s blood, breath, and the kind of scream that cracks the ceiling. It’s about staying present when the world goes primal. Whether you’re birthing a child, a self, a truth, or a timeline, this is the anthem for that threshold.
COME | BE | YOU — A Tantrum Gospel for the Loud Ones - Lyrics
COME | BE | YOU is a war cry for the kids who were told to sit still and shut up. It’s a lyrical gospel for the weirdos, the rage-born, the ones who survived by getting loud. This blog unpacks the fire beneath the noise, the sacred scream that saves lives, and the rite of reclaiming your uncaged voice. The song is both a spell and a sermon—an anthem for those ready to make their chaos holy.
🔥 THE FIRE NEVER SLEPT – Lyrics
This blog is a body spell disguised as a song breakdown.
It tells the truth about suppressed rage, sacred pain, and how pretending you're fine makes your body scream louder.
I wrote this track from the heat of chronic tension, back pain, and the quiet sickness of saying yes too long.
This isn't a meltdown—it's a remembering.
If you’ve ever swallowed your fire to stay safe, this is your permission to erupt on purpose.
SOCIAL SICKNESS – Lyrics
This blog unpacks the lyrics to “Social Sickness,” a truth-spell disguised as a song. It explores what happens when your body says no before you do—through sore throats, gut pain, fatigue, and post-event crashes. Drawing from somatic wisdom and real-life experience, it turns shame into signal and illness into insight. Readers will learn how to decode their own body’s no, cancel with power, and reclaim their sacred boundaries.