BECAUSE I SAID SO – Lyrics

BECAUSE I SAID SO – Lyrics
Title: Because I Said So
Artist: Loui Crow
Streaming: All platforms
📱 TikTok: @louicrow

🖤 ABOUT THE SONG — BECAUSE I SAID SO
This song came out of the moments I wish I could take back. The ones where I yelled too loud, gripped too tight, acted on autopilot because my body thought it was still at war. I wanted to soothe, but I snapped. I wanted to lead, but I barked orders. And somewhere in the mess, I caught my own reflection and decided—this can change.

Because I Said So is my reckoning. A three-act exhale. I wanted to name the way love got tangled with control, how power got confused with panic. And then show the shift—the quiet revolution of choosing presence over pressure. Inspired by Janet Lansbury’s work and the raw truth of parenting while healing, this song is me finding a new way to mother in real time.

This isn’t about blame. It’s about choice. I still flinch, but now I pause. I still mess up, but now I own it. And I lead with love—because I said so.

🔽 SCROLL DOWN for the full lyrics. Then come back up for the ritual and breakdown.

🔥 CROW BODY-BREAKDOWN — What Force-Based Parenting Really Is
It’s not discipline. It’s dysregulation with a halo on. It’s the nervous system flaring while the mouth says “I’m your mother.” It’s legacy trauma in a lullaby tone. It’s martyrdom posing as love.

You weren’t wrong. You were repeating. And now—you’re rewriting.

🗣️ Crow Affirmation:
"Will isn’t force. Will is space."

🕯️ Ritual: Leash to Reins
Place your hand on your own throat. Breathe there. Gently.

Then place your hand on your child's back (or your own heart if alone).

Whisper: “I choose respect over control.”

Pause before you speak next.

Repeat the affirmation.

🖤 CROW TRUTH
I don’t have to dominate to lead.
I don’t have to scream to be heard.
Will is not compliance.
Love holds room for choice.
Because I said so—and I chose better.

🖋 LYRICS — BECAUSE I SAID SO

ACT I – THE CONTROL YEARS

VERSE
I pinned him down.
My cold feet on his ribs.
Crying son, assertive hands,
just trying to change his diaper
He didn’t want it and I held him tighter.
Called it love.
Said, “I have to. I’m your mom.”
He screamed.
sometimes—I yelled back.
I used my love like a leash.
I told myself, “This is what love means”

HOOK
Because I said so—I am your mother.
Because I said so—doesn’t matter why.
Because I said so.

VERSE
I wake up angry. Always did.
Every day started like a kicked-in rib.
And when he woke up in the dark,
he got the fuse before the spark
I patted his back too hard.
I rocked him like rage.
I growled “go to sleep”
through a gritted cage.
Said I was calming him.
But I wasn’t even calming me.
Just a body pressed too tight
against a child’s need.
Fingers dig too hard in his thigh
I wanted sleep—
Not the cries.

HOOK
Because I said so—lie down slow.
Because I said so—this is how it goes.
Because I said so—diaper change.
Because I said so—stop acting strange.
Because I said so—put on your shirt.
Because I said so—that didn’t hurt.
Because I said so—get in the seat.
Because I said so - Growled and stomped my feet

Because I said so—I am your mother.
Because I said so—doesn’t matter why.
Because I said so—just comply.

VERSE
New Mexico sun.
Ninety degrees.
Fenced yard.
Bare feet.
He wanted to go play,
kept hearing me say:

“You can’t go outside
until you put on your shirt.”
Then I screamed it.
Loud enough for the crows to hear
And then I heard my voice echo in my ears
rippling across the mountains
with my shame spilling down like fountains.
There was no reason.
No law.
Just a mom caught in a script that made no sense.
That wasn’t will— just fear with a mother’s tongue.

VERSE
She lived across us in the mobile park,
Four dogs, three kids, no partner.
Trailer leaned like it might let go,
Still she showed up in apron flow.
Day shift, no second breath,
Worked for tips and choked on debt.
Truck broke down, cigarette lit—
And silence said, she’s built for grit.
I used to hear her yell—
scream at the dogs, at the kids,
at the weight of the world
like it was sitting on her ribs.
One day,
her boy hid under the truck in the shade
And she dragged him out by the leg.
And I judged her.
Yeah—I judged her.
But deep down, I knew—
if I didn’t have my husband,
I’d be her too.
If I was working two jobs
with no backup, no break,
just heat in my chest
and no one to take
this child from my shaking hands—
I’d be just like her.
And the truth is—
even with my hubby there,
I couldn’t stop the fracture from crawling up my throat.
I yelled when I wanted to whisper.
I snapped before I knew I’d been triggered.
And she had no one.
No witness. No partner.
Just pressure and rage
and a nervous system in armor.
I judged her pain
because I couldn’t face mine.
I called her wild so I wouldn’t drown,
but her reflection wore my crown.

HOOK
Because I said so—lie down slow.
Because I said so—this is how it goes.
Because I said so—diaper change.
Because I said so—stop acting strange.
Because I said so—put on your shirt.
Because I said so—that didn’t hurt.
Because I said so—get in the seat.
Because I said so - Growled and stomped my feet
Because I said so—I am your mother.
Because I said so—doesn’t matter why.
Because I said so—just comply.

VERSE
He was crying. I was growling.
I thought I was holding back.
But my voice was loud and cross.
My husband said—
“It’s okay if you’re mad,
but you can’t talk to him like that.”
That cracked the script.

VERSE
I was looking for change.
real answers—relief.
I clicked on her voice with a trembling hand—
Janet said “Respect,” with a gentle command.
She said—
“Don’t bring them to pee with you.
Go. Let them cry.
Then come back. Prove you do.”
And I broke.
Didn’t know there was a door.
Thought mother meant martyr,
so I became on the floor.
Called my exhaustion devotion,
called my rage control—
but I buried myself just to keep feeling whole.

VERSE
Will isn’t force.
Will is pause.
Will is giving space
to the smallest cause.
Now we say—
“We have to go—who picks you up?”
He chooses.
We say—
“You need a shirt—this one or that?”
He moves through it.
I still flinch.
Still lose my grip.
I hand him the reins—
‘Cause I was raised to bite my lip.
I wait for his yes—
Because I said so.

FINAL HOOK
Because I said so.
That’s why.
I lead with love.
I won’t deny.
I pause. I breathe.
I let him grow.
I honor his will—
Because I said so.
Because I said so.

💔 What pain or struggle is this blog addressing?
This is for the part of me that thought control was love. For the moments I used volume instead of presence. For the mornings that started angry before anyone spoke. I wrote this to name the pattern, feel the ache, and walk myself through the shift. This isn’t about shame—it’s about reclaiming my breath, my will, my ability to choose how I mother. And if you’ve ever felt that pressure stack in your chest—you’re not alone.