SARAH (Funeral for a Ghost) – Lyrics

SARAH (Funeral for a Ghost) – Lyrics
Title: SARAH (Funeral for a Ghost)
Artist: Loui Crow
Streaming: All platforms
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📱 TikTok: @louicrow

🖤 ABOUT THE SONG — SARAH (Funeral for a Ghost)
This is not a breakup song. This is a burial. SARAH is the funeral of a girl who lived for everyone else. Who turned her rage into performance. Who turned her ache into silence. Who smiled instead of screaming and called it love.

SARAH names what it means to die while still alive. To fawn until her voice dissolves. To perform joy through chronic pain. And then—to walk away. Not with a bang, but with a ritual.

This song was written as a eulogy for my old self. She didn’t fall apart—she fell inward. And from that implosion came the holy fire. The voice. The grief. The choice. This is for everyone who buried themselves just to make others comfortable.

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

🔥 CROW BODY-BREAKDOWN — What Self-Erasure Really Is
Self-erasure is a slow ritual of vanishing. It’s the ghosting of the soul while the body smiles on cue. It looks like chronic pain, flinching knees, TMJ, shallow breath, and so much more. It sounds like “I’m fine” through clenched teeth. It feels like safety—but costs your truth.

Sarah isn’t just a name. She’s the mask. The martyr. The shape I took to stay accepted. But she’s not the flame. I am.

🗣️ Crow Affirmation:
“I bury the mask. I trust my flame.”

🕯️ Ritual: Name the Self
Place one hand on your heart. One hand on your lower belly.

Breathe deep into the hips and say the name of the self you buried.

Whisper: “You are free.”

Move your hands outward like you’re laying a body down.

Say the affirmation: “I bury the mask. I live the flame.”

🖤 CROW TRUTH
She didn’t die ashamed.
She died holy.
I carry her now like fire.
Not a ghost—
But the gate.

🖋 LYRICS — SARAH (Funeral for a Ghost)

INTRO
I’m mourning.
They’re still alive.
But I’m the one that died.
I’m mourning.
They’re still alive.
But I’m the one that died.

VERSE 1
She was a whisper with a war cry,
Folded words and fibro eyes.
Carried silence like a spine,
Every smile rehearsed in line.

She played peace like a symphony,
While her body screamed agony.
Boots full of static ache,
She knew the cost of staying fake.

PRE-CHORUS
And yeah, she wanted to die—
Since before she knew what living meant.
Curled in corners, chalk outline,
Waiting for a world that never bent.

CHORUS
But she didn’t fall apart—she fell inward.
Lit a match in a locked-up whisper.
Didn’t disappear—she detonated.
Called the dark by name and waited.

Now I wake where she gave in,
Breathe the breath she left within.
She died so I could finally see—
She walked the fire to set me free.

VERSE 2
She kept her rage in Tupperware,
Labeled: "Smile if they ever care."
Held her breath through every test,
Thought love was being second best.

Praised for bleeding quietly,
For shrinking just politely.
Clapped for grace with severed wings,
Conditioned into people-pleasing.

PRE-CHORUS
They called her broken. She translated.
She stayed soft when violated.
Fawned through lies and pain,
Made her body take the blame.

CHORUS
But she didn’t fall apart—she fell inward.
Lit a match in a locked-up whisper.
Didn’t disappear—she detonated.
Called the dark by name and waited.

Now I dance where she once froze,
Speak the no she never chose.
She died so I could finally feel—
Now I write the wounds she couldn’t heal.

BRIDGE
No flinch in the mirror now.
No teeth grinding down the doubt.
She quit the rooms where her name felt wrong,
Taught me silence can still be strong.

They said she was too much.
Too loud. Too fragile. Too soft. Too proud.
But all she was, was always enough.
In a world that made her forget her love.

FINAL CHORUS
She didn’t die ashamed—she died free
Laid her war mask down in peace.
And I wear her fire on my skin,
A living grave she rose within.

She didn’t die—she transitioned.
Taught me that grief is beautiful.
Now I’m the voice she couldn’t be—
A holy spark that burned through me.

OUTRO
Goodbye, Sarah.
You were the flame. The storm. The ache. The sacred name.
You were never too much. You were just the whole truth before it had a place to bloom.
And now—
You live in this room.

I’m mourning / they’re still alive / but I’m the one that died…
Sarah
Sarah
Sarah
Rest in peace.
You’re free.

💔 What pain or struggle is this blog addressing?
This post speaks to anyone who’s ever dissociated to stay safe, anyone who performed likability at the cost of their truth. It names the grief of being alive while watching your real self wither for others' comfort. By the end, the reader knows they’re allowed to mourn what they became to survive—and finally write a eulogy for that ghost. The soul win is this: You don’t have to disappear to be loved. You can bury the performance and become the flame.