6. Mirror, Mirror, Off The Wall

Jun 27

Mirror, mirror off the wall
I've got a question, but not that one at all.
Not who's the fairest — crows don't play that game.
Just show me who really showed up today.

[VERSE 1]
The glass feels sharp and cold –
a story I was too young to hold.
I'm the parent now, I'm learning to stay.
Wipe the fog with a gentle gaze.
I'm not asking who's the fairest of them all.
Mirror — I'm asking: can you hold me
while I tell her the truth she missed?
You were never too much — you were just a kid.

[PRE-CHORUS]
I love you, anyway.
Even the parts that learned to peck.
You ruffled thing.
Even when you freeze mid-flight.
Even the parts that learned to bite.
You little storm.

[CHORUS]
Mirror, mirror off the wall.
I see you through it all.
I love you, anyway.
Mirror, mirror, let me fall through the shine and through the breaks.
Mirror, mirror off the wall –
I love you anyway. That's all.
You absolute mess.

[BRIDGE]
When the little one inside flinches at her face,
Crow steps closer and says:
“I know that scared place.”
No more casting stones, no more queen's command.
You don't have to fix the reflection to feel good.
You just have to soften where the old story stood.
The mirror never asks you to be fair.
It's asking you to finally dare to care.
Louise said look and stay.
Right here, right now, today.

[PRE-CHORUS]
I love you, anyway.
Even the parts that learned to peck.
You ruffled thing.
Even when you freeze mid-flight.
Even the parts that learned to bite.
You little storm.

[OUTRO]
I love you anyway – no fairy tale left.
Just the crow and the glass and the breath.
I love you anyway – even the tears.
I love you anyway – even the fears.
You're allowed to feel at ease.
(At ease. At ease.)

Loui Crow

I make music, practice mirror work, sometimes I do somatic rage fits, and small forms of magick that help me stay present and kind while things change.

I write songs for myself, my inner child, and for the woman I am becoming.
I work through old patterns, grief, and survival habits as I notice them loosening.

Sometimes I write as the Crow — that's my ideal self. Direct, unattached, protective, grounded in something older than my fear. Other voices come through too. The snake. The spider. The fly. The ghosts are the false selves I created to survive. I write as all of them, for my own self-hypnosis — unpacking who I've been so that my son can fill his days with joy and I can stop being such a reactive parent. I'm in the middle of it all. I just keep showing up.

I use Suno for vocals and instrumentals — the vocals are seeded from my own voice. I'm a disabled veteran and a stay-at-home mom.

Over the last year, I climbed an emotional ladder I didn't know I was on. Many of my earlier releases were the scream — my depression, anger, insecurity.

The last album that came out of that climb is called "Mirror, Mirror off the Wall." It starts with depression and ends with gratitude.

Much of what lives here carries the influence of Louise Hay and Abraham Hicks, especially the idea that my body listens to my thoughts — and that where I place my attention, my life follows.

I leave breadcrumbs in case anyone resonates.

Take what feeds you.
Leave the rest for the birds.

I am molting.
You are welcome here.

https://louicrow.com

6. Mirror, Mirror, Off The Wall

5. Train Of Thought

7. 11:11

louicrow@gmail.com