Nice is the Disease - Lyrics

🎤 SONG + BLOG DROP

Title: Nice Is the Disease
Artist: Loui Crow
Streaming: All platforms
Read More: Original blog: “Nice” Is a Costume and It’s Making Everyone Sick

🔗 Linktree: https://linktr.ee/louicrow

🖤 ABOUT THE SONG

“Nice Is the Disease” is a lyric exorcism. A spell for everyone who ever choked on a compliment, fawned to stay safe, or collapsed under the weight of false guilt.

This is for the ones who were praised for being easy, agreeable, sweet—when what they really were was silenced. This song strips off the costume. It spits truth. It draws the line between compassion and collapse, between care and co-dependence, between connection and control.

It was born from the blog that shook open a floodgate: “Nice” Is a Costume and It’s Making Everyone Sick.

This track is for the lanterns, not the sponges. For the ones who are done dying to be loved.

🎙 LYRICS — Nice Is the Disease

[HOOK – chant it like a spell, low and cocky]
Nice is a costume, Nice is a mask
And I’m not sick anymore.
Smile like sugar—rot at the core.
Call it love? That’s the trap.
I cut the script. I’m not going back.
I’ve got blood in my voice now.
Truth in my chest.
Fawning’s not holy.
Burnout’s not blessed.

[VERSE 1 – tight and surgical]
They trained me to shrink, nod, bend, agree,
Say “I’m fine” with a throat full of debris.
Clapped for my silence. Praised when I folded.
But kindness with no boundaries gets corroded.
I begged like love was a prize to earn.
Now I just watch who flinches when I burn.
Smile too wide, voice too sweet—
They liked me best when I looked at my feet.

[VERSE 2 – sharp and rising]
“Unconditional” meant “don’t you need.”
Perform your love and let it bleed.
False guilt spreads like a praise-dipped knife—
Call me selfish when I choose my life.
I used to wear your moods like a skin.
Used to drown just to pull you in.
But compassion is clean—empathy floods.
Compassion stays still when the feelings come in.
Compassion says: “I see it, but I stay me.”
Empathy says: “I’ll break just so you can breathe.”
I’m done sinking for applause.
Done calling collapse a cause.

[VERSE 3 – the bird verse, molting the myth]
Magpie said hush. Crow said please.
Starling broke her wings just to keep the peace.
They dressed it up like sacred grace—
But it was silence with a pretty face.
They said, “Be the bigger bird,” and watched me bend.
But big without boundaries just breaks in the end.
You can love and still say no.
You can care without the baggage in tow.

[BRIDGE – ache to triumph]
I cried in the car.
Held my voice like a bruise.
Called it connection while I begged to lose.
But I’m done with the party where pain’s the theme.
Done with love that deletes my dream.
This is my line. This is my shape.
This is me, clean—without the cape.
Don’t call it kindness if it costs my breath.
I’m not here to please you to death.

[HOOK – back louder, raw]
Nice is the costume.
Truth is the cure.
You want my silence?
I want more.
I’m the villain in your script, the light in your grief—
I stopped wearing masks just to give you relief.

[OUTRO – whispered growl, then eruption]
They called it frost.
I called it form.
This is love that doesn’t bend.
This is truth that fights back.
I don’t shapeshift for comfort.
I bring the storm.

💔 What pain or struggle is this blog addressing?

The emotional exhaustion of being the “nice one.”
The collapse that comes from fawning to survive.
The spiritual sickness of praise without permission, love without reciprocity, and kindness without backbone.
This is for the reader who’s been crying in their car, afraid to speak up, still calling martyrdom “love.”

💡 How does the reader feel different by the end? What’s the soul win?

They remember the holy power of no.
They recognize that self-preservation is sacred.
They reclaim kindness with a spine, and compassion with sovereignty.
They stop shapeshifting—and start standing.