16. PATCHER (TOWER)

Written By Loui crow

Lyrics up. Blog coming. Check back soon.

Patcher — hold the walls.
Patcher — walls hold me.
We fall together or not at all.

The Tower Reversed

[INTRO]

Patcher is the ghost
of maintenance.
Keeps walls standing
long after they should've fallen.

Someone whispers:
"What is she doing?"
Crow says:
"She's dying on purpose."
Patcher is me.

[CHORUS]

Patcher — hold the walls
Patcher — walls hold me
We fall together
or not at all.
Quick fix — everything's fine
React — refine
Crack grows louder
Patcher.

[VERSE 1]

Same walls. Different day.
Nothing falls. Nothing changed.
Plaster fills avoidance.
Fear made solid.
Grief made mortar.
Silence made stone.
Fear of the cracks,
yet they keep coming.
What hides in silence
I never learned to name.
So I patch it.
"Everything's fine" —
Ghost says: "You missed a spot."
Crow says:
"Let it break.
The rupture you fear
is a release you need."

[PRE-CHORUS]

If I stop patching,
what gives?
Smooth it over.
Move along.
Smooth it over.
Nothing wrong.

[CHORUS]

(repeat)

[BRIDGE]

I don't patch this.
I let it gape.
Let the shape
of what I held
fall away.
What I never learned to name
names me now.
Patcher watches.
Patcher goes.

[PRE-CHORUS]

(repeat)

[CHORUS]

(repeat)

[OUTRO]

I stopped patching.
Lightning came.
I'm not the same.
I smile at the ruin.
Bless the fall.
Tower held my fear.
In rubble it disappeared.
The mask fit so well
I forgot it was on.
Now that it's off —
I feel a little naked.

—

Lyrics are here. The full blog — about the ghost, the tarot, the body, the blessing — is still unfolding.
Check back another day. I'm still writing. You're still welcome.

🐦‍⬛

Loui crow

This is a record of becoming.

I make music, practice mirror work, somatic rage fits, and small forms of magick that help me stay present and kind while things change.

I write songs for myself.

I talk through old patterns, grief, and survival habits as I notice them loosening.

I follow what supports me staying here — language, ritual, gentleness, curiosity.

Much of what lives here carries the influence of Louise Hay and Abraham Hicks, especially the idea that the body listens to language and that focus shapes experience.

Nothing here asks belief.

I share what I am learning as I go in case anyone resonates.

I leave breadcrumbs.

Take what feeds you.

Leave the rest for the birds.

I am molting.

You are welcome here.

https://louicrow.com
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17. HOARDER (Star)
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Daughter on Mother’s Throne (Heh Final) Gate IV