MARROW – Lyrics For The Survivors

MARROW – Lyrics
Title: MARROW
Artist: Loui Crow
Streaming: All platforms
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📱 TikTok: @louicrow

💔 ABOUT THE SONG — MARROW
This is the exorcism of my ghost named Marrow.
She was the one who played dead so the hands got bored.
Who smiled on cue so the danger stayed calm.
Who bent her hips into the shape of survival.

I carried her in my joints for years — the way my knees locked when I walked, the way my pelvis froze when a voice dropped low, the way my jaw clamped around words my teeth wanted to spit.
Marrow was my body’s decoy.
She took the hit so I could keep moving.
She was obedience in the shape of a girl.

I didn’t bury her because she was weak.
I buried her because she deserved to rest.

What Pelvic Shame Really Holds

Pelvic shame isn’t an accident — it’s training.
It’s the muscle memory of silence: hips trained to stay still, thighs trained to close or open on command, breath trained to vanish so nothing else does.

I learned early that “no” didn’t stop anything.
So I started saying “yes” before they could take.
It felt like strategy — a way to keep control of something they’d already decided to claim.

But there’s no safety in giving yourself away to avoid being stolen.
There’s only the ache of watching your own body leave without you.

I slept with people I didn’t want.
Stayed in relationships I hated.
Laughed when I wanted to gag.
Let them think it was love because that’s what kept me breathing.

I made my body a shield — not against them, but against the moment they’d decide to crush it.

The Somatic Takeback

I can’t think my way back into my body — I have to move it.

Every scream in this song is a muscle untying.
Every stomp is a history rewritten in bone.
When I spit the chorus, my jaw becomes mine again.
When I slam the ground, my knees remember what power feels like.
When I howl, my hips become a weapon instead of a wound.

This isn’t performance — it’s possession.
Not the kind that takes me over.
The kind that says: I own this flesh.

From Ghost to Ground

Marrow was the stillness.
I am the sound.

She bled in silence so I could live.
Now I bleed in volume so I can rise.

I honor her for getting me here.
But I don’t let her drive.
Her job is done.

This song is the shovel, the fire, and the gate all at once.
It’s the burial.
It’s the scream that seals the ground.
It’s the part where I don’t ask if the room feels safe — I make the room feel me.

Crow Body-Spell

Now I move.
She kneeled.
I rise.
Her ghost — goodbye.

Crow Truth

Obedience was a ghost costume.
Our hips were never the sin.
She kept us still.
We move.
She flinched.
We rise.
The gate is sealed.

🕋 LYRICS — MARROW

INTRO – Whisper-Chant
She played dead pretty so the hands got bored.
Smiled like a trophy they never adored.
I watched her vanish while the crowd got loud—
She bled through denim just to make them proud.
Said “yes” so fast they forgot she could speak,
But I heard her scream underneath my teeth.

She lived in my joints,
in the way I walked slow.
Leaking her memory
but no one would know.
She kept me small
so the room stayed calm.
Now I bite the leash
with a scream in my palm.
My pelvis remembers
what my mind erased.
She smiled through terror
with her knees in place.

VERSE 1 – Memory Excavation
She laid down soft like a loyal pet
Trained by fear, by silent threat
Smiled real sweet with my jaw half-set
She tracked the room like a war zone chart
Studied who got loud, who fell apart
Laughed on time, but the chest was tight
Counted wins by how I shrank just right
Laid down flat like a dog on screen
Taught to serve first, keep the edges clean
Smiled with lips while my fists went mean
Marked escape routes, tracked the cues
Counted silence like loaded fuse

CHORUS – Scream/Chant
She lived in my marrow.
Now I lock that gate.
We buried her ghost.
She won’t reincarnate.
She bled in stillness.
I rise in sound.
She curled in shame.
I pound the ground.

VERSE 2 – Confession to Conviction
They said "bossy" when she had a game plan
Said "crazy" when she took a stand
So she stopped speaking, started scheming
Laced her thoughts in baited meaning
Guided the room till it echoed back
Her own lines in his voice track

Faked the moans. Played the slut.
Closed my eyes and loosened up
Said, "It's fine," when I split in half
Now I want my fucking body back
Now I’m taking my body back!

PRE-CHORUS 2 – Stronger Now
I was theory wearing chains
Now I map the buried pains
Every glitch became a guide
To the self I had to hide

CHORUS – Scream/Chant
She lived in my marrow
Now I spit her out
Smile. Spread. Serve.
Bury. Burn. Shout.
She laid down
Now I stand proud
She was made of “yes”
But I’m screaming loud

BRIDGE – Half-Time Breakdown
This is for the girl who flinched at love
Who spread her legs to shut them up
Who thought submission kept her safe
Who made her pain a pretty shape
This is for the rage that grew
Inside each lie I called “me too”
Now I bite back. Now I scream.
Now I torch the fucking dream.

(Glitch FX + scream layering: “She won’t come with me.”)

FINAL CHORUS – Overlay Vocals
She lived in my marrow.
Now I lock that gate.
We buried her ghost.
She won’t reincarnate.
She bled in stillness.
I rise in sound.
She curled in shame.
I pound the ground.

This voice won’t kneel,
I bite through the chain.
You taught me to feel,
Now I flood the vein.

OUTRO – Spoken Eulogy + Fade FX
She bent, she bled, she played it narrow.
I wore her face to buy some grace.
She kept me safe—but lost my place.
She smiled when she should’ve screamed.
Took the blow so I could dream.
She took the pain.
I took the win.
So I laid her down and shed that skin.
Now I breathe with nothing to prove.
She held me still.
Now I move.
She kneeled.
I rise.
Her ghost—
Goodbye.

(soft whisper)
The gate is sealed.
Rest in peace, Marrow.

💔 What pain or struggle is this blog addressing?
This post speaks to women and survivors who were trained to perform consent, who learned to flinch instead of feel, who bent their bodies to stay safe in unsafe places. It reaches the one who said “I’m fine” while splitting in half. The blog transforms that shame into sacred rage, guiding them to scream, reclaim, and release. The soul win is this: You are not your ghost. Your hips belong to you. And your voice? It moves.