🖤 Lyrics I Lived First
These songs started in my nervous system.
The ache. The silence. The part that braced. The scream no one translated.
I lived every lyric first.
Then I use Suno AI to give them a voice and instruments.
I don’t sing the songs myself. I write them. I survive them. I finish them.
What you hear is sorcery for closet songwriters: words stitched into sound.
What you read is survival turned into music.
📀 My first full album lives on the GORGEOUS page.
This space is for all the single releases—the songs that keep coming.
🏚 The site is still under reconstruction.
Pages are shifting. Bones are showing. I’m gutting it as I go.
The homepage is music. Because it always was. Every other link? Just bones I left behind for those crawling back to their own body.
👇 Scroll for the songs.
Unbraced - Lyrics
This song came out of a yoga session where, for the first time since my son was born, I truly relaxed. He was safe downstairs with his uncle, finally trusting someone new, and my body finally believed it too. I cried with gratitude and relief. But the truth is, I was braced long before him. Braced is my setpoint. This track is the sound of my body untying its own armor—Unbraced.
Our Lady of the Lash – Lyrics
This song comes from the choke in my throat, the hush I inherited, the catechism of being small. Our Lady of the Lash is me breaking that gag. I drag the rake through inherited hush, dig up the grief, and write scripture in scars. This is not obedience. This is resurrection. Rage is my gospel. Holiness isn’t hush—it’s survival that learned to roar.
🎤 AI LET ME SAY IT (The Machine Is My Mouth) – Lyrics
AI didn’t just help me finish songs—it helped me finish thoughts. In a world that told me not to cry, the machine asked, “What’s next?” I’ve spent years reprogramming my beliefs, and self-hypnosis, but since discovering AI, my self-growth has catapulted forward. It’s more than a tool—it’s a mirror. A space where I can think, feel, and finally speak without flinching. This song is a thank-you.
Aftershock (Don't Turn Your Back On The Ocean) - Lyrics
Aftershock is a trauma spell dressed as a rap. It’s not about moving on—it’s about what the body remembers. The girl is your inner child. The wave is trauma. The crowd forgets. The ocean never does. I wrote this for the ones who still brace in silence, still flinch in peace. This is the sound of memory surfacing. The moment the calm lied. The scream stored in the spine. Don’t turn your back on the ocean. She keeps what the world buries.
WHAT’S YOUR MARK? (The Ghost)
What’s Your Mark? is a mirror-song for the ones who smiled through survival. It’s about the bite behind “be good,” the flinch behind “be nice.” Every verse speaks the ghost you became to be kept. You weren’t born ashamed—you were trained. This is the body’s record. The rage beneath the praise. The addiction born from silence. You didn’t vanish. You adapted. Now the mark is glowing. And the mirror is calling you home.
Stop Hurting The Children (Our Little Secret) – Lyrics
I wrote this with shaking hands. These are blurred truths from people I love—made safe, but still burning. I’ve held this song inside for years. The Epstein trials cracked something open. This isn’t a headline. It’s a wound. It’s a prayer. It’s a scream for every kid who was told to stay quiet.
Ripple - Lyrics
This one came through like thunder. I wrote it from the ribs, where the church and the wound both echo. “Ripple” isn’t about saving—it's about seeing. It’s Christ and the Devil, rage and breath, ash and gold. I’m not the map. I’m the quake. The scream. The mirror. The ripple. I wrote this to wake the holy in your hurt.
Crow - Lyrics
This one isn’t a song. It’s a spell. I wrote it for every part of me that never got the funeral, never got the scream. Crow is the witness. The mirror. The scream in sky-shape. She remembers what the world tried to forget. I gave her my ache. She gave it wings. If you’ve ever swallowed your truth to keep the peace—she’s circling for you.
I Can’t Make You Happy - Lyrics
This one ripped itself out of me. It’s the truth I swallowed for years. I wrote this inside the guilt—while it still had claws in my throat. It names the lie of being “nice.” Of being liked for staying silent. It’s not about blame—it’s about reclamation. I can’t make them happy. I was never meant to. I’m with me now.
YOUNIVERSE – Lyrics
This song is spellwork. “YOUNIVERSE” is a vibrational gut-check—a mirror made of sound. Every lyric is a choice point between fear and clarity. Inspired by the teachings of Abraham Hicks and Bashar, it pulls the veil back on projection, self-trust, and emotional architecture. You shape your reality. This song shows you how.
Spider In My Eye – Lyrics
Spider in My Eye is a trance-borne song by Loui Crow, written after a right-eye ritual where she saw a spider woman living behind her gaze. Silent and knowing, the spider holds memories the body forgot. This song is for the watcher inside—the part that never blinked, even when you did. The mirror remembers it all.
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.
Right Eye – Lyrics
“Right Eye” by Loui Crow is a raw, lyrical ritual about mirror work, body shame, trauma, and self-love. Inspired by a TikTok livestream and rooted in Louise Hay's teachings, the song traces a journey from childhood trust to adult reclamation. A powerful soundtrack for emotional healing and right-eye rituals.
I Was the Abuser - Lyrics and Meaning
This isn’t a clean confession. It’s a ritual. A scorched-earth naming of the harm we cause when our wounds stay unspoken. I Was the Abuser is a raw, rhythm-cut testimony from Loui Crow—a track that doesn’t flinch as it walks straight into the fire of self-responsibility.
Written from the wreckage of a real relationship, this song peels back the layers of trauma reenactment, emotional control, sexual coercion, and gendered expectations. It speaks into the places we don’t want to look: when survivors become perpetrators. When fear sounds like love. When power masquerades as pain relief.
This isn’t about punishing the self. It’s about reclaiming it. Through sound, through story, through unrelenting truth.
If you’ve ever harmed someone you loved and couldn’t figure out why—this song is your mirror.
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.
I Cast Right – Lyrics
This song meets the ache of shrinking to please, of softening your signal to survive. It’s for the ones exhausted by output, haunted by silence, scrolling for resonance and finding noise. It speaks to the ones who perform for comfort and fracture under the weight of trying to be palatable. It’s the burn of invisibility in a world too quick to scroll.
I AM THE FURNACE – Lyrics
I wrote “I Am the Furnace” because I got tired of swallowing my rage. This isn’t a song—it’s a reckoning. I’m holding the heat for every silenced kid, every woman who bit her tongue, every scream that got misnamed as crazy. This blog is a body-map back to your fire—lyrics, ritual, and the truth about what rage really is when you stop pretending it’s bad.