Stop Hurting The Children (Our Little Secret) – Lyrics

Title: Stop Hurting the Children
Artist: Loui Crow
Streaming: All platforms
📱 TikTok: @louicrow

🖤 ABOUT THE SONG — STOP HURTING THE CHILDREN
This one cracked me open. I’ve been circling this topic for years—too holy to rush, too heavy to fake. And then the Epstein headlines surged again, and I felt it in my ribs. The ache. The scream. The undeniable truth that the shadows run deep and the silence has teeth.

These stories are blurred for safety, but they’re real. Every verse is a shape of someone I know. People who trusted me with the ache in their throats and the tremble in their bones. These aren’t fiction. These are the echoes we live beside. The breath caught in a memory. The kids who prayed to die and lived instead. This song is for them.

I’ve felt it growing underground—a system too wide, too clean, too polished to hold the rot it hides. The more I learn, the more I unravel. This is bigger than any list, any name, any face. But music gives it breath. Rhythm turns the unspeakable into spell. I wrote this to hold what couldn’t be held.

This is song as prayer. Grief as grit. Truth as riot. I believe you. I do.

🔥 CROW BODY-BREAKDOWN — What Silenced Pain Really Is
Silenced pain is a fever sealed in skin. It’s the scream that grew teeth and bit inward. It’s the child in your belly still ducking, still frozen, still bargaining with ghosts. It shows up in the throat that locks, the ribs that flinch, the hips that brace for nothing. It’s the way you smile when praised, then want to burn your name.

These aren't "stories." They're scars with breath. And when you finally speak it, the body starts remembering what safe could feel like. Shame only survives when it’s hidden. This song pulls it into light. Sing it with your chest. Let the silence break.

🕋 LYRICS — STOP HURTING THE CHILDREN"

[Bridge]
I change the facts to keep them safe.
I hold their names inside a gate.
This isn’t fiction. It’s a shape
Of everything they couldn’t say.
These aren’t just three.
These are the many.
These are the faces blurred and bending.
The girls with their teeth sewn shut.
The boys who were left to rust.
The kids the world betrayed.
I burn their story into the page.

[Chorus]
Stop hurting the children.
Stop naming it love.
Stop folding it into silence
and pretending it’s from above.
Stop hurting the children.
I’m saying it out loud.
For the ones who said it soft to me—
I’ll scream it for the crowd.

[Verse 2]
She was twelve when the touch began—
He called her “honey,” brushed her hand.
Sunday socks in a cousin’s den,
But the hush got thick like a breathing pen.
She said it wasn’t brutal—just confusing at the start.
Until her breath got pinned beneath a smile torn apart.
Every week, she’d wear a face like a stage light mask—
But her wrists kept itching from questions no one would ever ask.
I met her grown, with a ring on her chain.
Still flinching at praise like it carried old shame.
“I told my mom. She made me pray.”
I never told anyone after that day.

[Bridge]
The system’s a god that feeds on the act.
It teaches the prey to stay intact.
“Our little secret” was part of the deal.
The silence is trained. The victims kneel.
[Hook]
This is for the kids who prayed to die—
And lived instead. With fire in their eyes.
This isn’t a secret. This is the scream.
This is the song that stitches the seam.
Who’s hurting the children?
Stop hurting the children.

[Verse 3]
She whispered her story from behind her hands—
Afraid her own husband would misunderstand.
She said, “He’s kind, but he wouldn’t believe—
That a brother could take and a mother could leave.”
She wore her body like a borrowed coat,
Too big in the shoulders, too tight at the throat.
Said “If I say it aloud, I’ll collapse in the saying.”
So I stayed very still while her voice did the praying.

[Verse]
He said it started with grandpa’s beer—
A can in hand, then a word in ear.
Then a game in the barn, a dare in the shed.
He grew up fast with his fists in his sleeves—
Trying to father his kids without handing the scream.
He said “The rage lives here, but I give it space.”
So his children could grow with a safer face.

[Verse]
He said his grandpa “liked to wrestle.”
He was eight. It felt like glass.
His body flailed against the couch
but his breath couldn’t get past.
“I blacked it out until my thirties.
But my bones remember more than me.
Every time my son gets playful,
my whole ribcage screams.”
He told me, shaking in a voice
that sounded like pleas.
A name that rotted underground—
and a child gasping for air.

[Hook]
This is for the kids who prayed to die—
And lived instead. With fire in their eyes.
This isn’t a secret. This is the scream.
This is the song that stitches the seam.
Who’s hurting the children?
Stop hurting the children.

[Verse]
She told me in a sacred tone.
Low voice, like prayer, but cut from bone.
Said, “He was family. Still alive.
My husband doesn’t even know I survived.”
She said, “It’s fine. I’m fine. I healed.”
But every word was battlefield.
She said, “I smell him in my son.”
Some doors stay locked for what was done.

[Chorus]
Stop hurting the children.
Some truths can’t be told in full.
But I can hold the weight with you.
I can keep the echo whole.

[Verse]
Said her body don’t match what the mirror shows.
Cut her hair off. Burned all her clothes.
Said she used to pray she’d forget it all.
This is for the ones who blink too fast.
Who learned how to vanish in a bathroom glass.
For the bones that hold what no one sees.
For the rage that never got to scream.
This is for the wrists that still remember.
For the thighs that tighten every December.
For the stomach turned to iron plate.
For the hips that still carry the weight.

[Outro]
You’re not crazy.
You’re not alone.
You’re not dirty.
You’re already home.
If you only speak it once,
let it be here.
I’ll hold your silence
inside my ears.
I won’t tell the world your name—
just your song.
Stop hurting the children.
Every one you try to crush—
We grow a thousand eyes to watch.
We build a thousand crows from dust.

[Outro— Prayer]
Let the ones who couldn’t tell
Feel this echo cast a spell.
Let the locked rooms split apart.
Let the truth rebuild their heart.
For the child who wasn’t saved.
For the child who still behaves.
For the child who learned to lie—
We bear your memory as sky.
Stop hurting the children.

[Chorus]
Stop hurting the children.
I’ve heard too many names.
Stop masking the terror
as part of the game.


[Whispered]
This song is a prayer.
If you’ve never told—
I believe you.
I do.