COME | BE | YOU — A Tantrum Gospel for the Loud Ones - Lyrics
Title: COME | BE | YOU
Artist: Loui Crow
Streaming: All platforms
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📱 TikTok: @louicrow
This is a tantrum gospel.
A rewrite of Chapter One of The Book of the Law, flipped and rewritten for the loud ones—the neurodivergent, the meltdown-born, the sacredly weird.
I wrote it for every child who screamed their truth and got shamed for it.
For every adult still holding their breath in the name of “good behavior.”
For the ones who mistake their sacred fire for a flaw.
COME | BE | YOU isn’t a song—it’s a command.
Put on the wings. Let the crow in.
Let your voice wreck the silence that never protected you.
This is how I make my chaos holy.
This is the Book of the Loud. (Click to read the original chapter)
Let it begin.
🔽 SCROLL DOWN for the full lyrics.
Then come back up to claim your volume, your vow, and your wings.
🔥 CROW BODY-BREAKDOWN — What Loudness Really Is
Loudness is not disruption. Loudness is divinity.
Tantrum is not failure. It’s the first real prayer.
You were never broken—just burried.
Your rage is the red flare of your will remembering itself.
The meltdown is the medicine.
🗣️ Crow Affirmation:
“My volume is sacred.
My chaos is proof.
I COME. I BE. I ROAR the truth.”
🕯️ Ritual: Put On the Wings
Place both hands over your ribs. Breathe into the pressure.
Whisper: “I allow the loud. I bless the burn.”
Let your body move the way it wanted to when you were told to sit still.
Yell, cry, sing, whisper, snarl.
Say it again: COME | BE | YOU.
🖤 CROW TRUTH
There’s no crown without the tantrum.
There’s no spell without the scream.
The crow calls loud.
So should you.
🖋 LYRICS — COME | BE | YOU
(VERSE 1)
Don’t clip your wings just to please a peer,
The wing won’t lift for a heart that hides the wind, hear?
This ain’t for the quiet, the neat, the polite,
It’s for the screamers in basements, the dancers of the night.
(VERSE 2)
I’m the meltdown queen with lipstick red,
Crocs stompin’ fire where the angels fear to tread.
I caw through chaos, laugh at my fall,
Built my throne from broken bones and shadows on the wall.
(PRE-CHORUS)
The tree’s in the crow, not the crow in the tree,
Worship your roots or they’ll clip your wings free.
Come out, weirdos, ditch the shame,
Take your joy like lunch, own your flame.
(CHORUS)
Call out the fake ones, O black feather,
O glowing eye, find the weirdos together.
We’re the fireborn, the rage untamed,
The crow that never bows, never shamed.
(VERSE 3)
I found my vow beneath tantrum no one dared to ask,
Your grief, rage, joy—
All counted in the task.
The tantrum lights the fire; truth felt, not corrected,
Those who stayed through flame rose higher—unrejected.
(VERSE 4)
No lock, just feel your way,
The crow’s law is chaos play.
Old words tried to name the fire,
I call it Crow—no need for clean attire.
(VERSE 5)
The meltdown and healing are one,
Done with silence, ready to run.
Speak your scars, wear your truth,
Sacred scream of uncaged youth.
(VERSE 6)
There’s no crown without scars,
No light without dark bars.
I wore rage like armor, wounds like flames,
Took back my voice, broke all chains.
(VERSE 7)
Fools praised silence; I sing noise,
My scream’s medicine, my rage is choice.
I’m crowchild laughing through pain,
Dancing wild in pouring rain.
(PRE-CHORUS 2)
Let the broken sing, weird rise,
Truth bleed through disguise.
No whispers, no shame,
Crow calls loud—call your name.
(CHORUS)
Call out fake ones, O black feather,
O glowing eye, find weirdos together.
We’re fireborn, rage untamed,
Crow never bows, never shamed.
(VERSE 8)
I’m the firestorm no one warned you of,
Beautiful disaster wrapped in love.
Break rules that broke me first,
Rise from ashes, fury and thirst.
(VERSE 9)
Wear mess like crown, pain like flame,
World’s not ready, not here to tame.
Scream ‘cause I’m alive, roar ‘cause I’m free,
Loud is sacred—that’s the truth of me.
(VERSE 10)
Come, children of chaos, sons of the wild,
You carry the fury of the untamed child.
We howl at the moon, dance with the storm,
Unbroken, unruly, refusing to conform.
(VERSE 11)
No quiet prayers, no soft-spoken pleas,
We are the thunder, the shaking trees.
Crow wings spread, black as the night,
We are the fury, the sacred fight.
(VERSE 12)
In basements and alleys, where shadows play,
Our voices echo, tearing walls away.
We build altars from broken glass,
Singing loud so the silence won’t last.
(VERSE 13)
This is the chorus of the lost and found,
The wild heart’s hymn, the sacred sound.
No chains can bind what’s meant to fly,
No cage can hold the crow’s sharp cry.
(BRIDGE)
Burn down their temples of fake applause,
We rise above their hollow laws.
Speak in tongues they fear to hear,
Crow calls loud—let them disappear.
The winged flame is our holy oath,
We claim the sky, the fire, the growth.
No crown without the bleeding scars,
No freedom without breaking bars.
(OUTRO)
Put on wings, awaken the crow within,
COME | be | YOU—let the loud begin.
The loud has been written; silence shall tend,
Until next chapter—
Let the wild roar never end.
(BONUS VERSE)
Every scream a prayer, every shout a spell,
In chaos we live, in fire we dwell.
Our truth is raw, our souls untamed,
The Book of the Loud—remember the name.
Put on the wings.
COME | be | YOU.
Put on the wings.
COME | be | YOU.
The loud has been written.
Now silence shall tend.
💔 What pain or struggle is this blog addressing?
This post speaks to the ache of being silenced, of having your tantrums mistaken for badness instead of brilliance. It’s for the rage that got punished, the weirdness that got medicated, the fire that got shamed. Readers searching “why am I so angry,” “rage and healing,” “I hate being quiet,” “undiagnosed ADHD as a child,” or “adult meltdown meaning” will feel seen here. This song is the permission to exist loudly, feel fully, and break the rules that broke you.
🔥 What’s the soul win?
By the end, readers feel permission to honor their own volume. They’ll see their anger as sacred, their breakdown as breakthrough, and their weirdness as a weapon of light. The soul walks away louder, freer, and crowned in flame.
