15. Let The Answer Arrive

Written By Loui Crow
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Loui Crow - Streaming Everywhere

I fix my gaze on the glass.
I wait.
I aim for a few seconds of no thought.
The mirror doubles.

[VERSE 1]
"I don't care" can turn into a quiet shield against wanting.
Meaning and living are different distances.
I noticed a strange stillness where my wanting used to live.
I want to itch, look away —
why is it so hard to stay?
The mirror shows me
what I expect to see.
So I choose a gentle expectation.
I hold the glass like a question.
I ask it to show me what I'm ready for.
The answer lives in the silence behind my eyes.
I'm no longer interrogating the reflection.

[PRE-CHORUS]
I blink slow — ease the push.
Each blink a small surrender.
A dozy trance settles.
Something softer than awake.
I try to quiet the mind.
The fly buzzes at my ear.

[CHORUS]
Let the answer arrive.
Thoughts keep buzzing — a fly circling my ear.
Landing, lifting, landing.
Let the answer arrive.
Something wakes under my skin.
Let the answer arrive.

[BRIDGE]
The fly lands on the glass.
It cleans its legs.
Something in me stops asking.

[PRE-CHORUS]
I blink slow — ease the push.
Each blink a small surrender.
A dozy trance settles.
Something softer than awake.
I try to quiet the mind.
The fly buzzes at my ear.

[CHORUS]
Let the answer arrive.
Thoughts keep buzzing — a fly circling my ear.
Landing, lifting, landing.
Let the answer arrive.
Something wakes under my skin.
Let the answer arrive.

[OUTRO]
My thoughts sound like that — a tiny buzzing.
I don't need to answer.
The fly leaves.
Let the answer arrive.
(Let the fly fly.)

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
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14. Dirty Mirror, Don’t Care
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16. Thing Are Always Working Out For Me