My song sounds like

Sitting in this Room, Mouth clenched shout. My thoughts keep talking. I can taste the silence on the tip of my tongue. My thoughts keep screaming Replaying every, why did you do that? Why did you do that? Why did you do that? Like a broken record, like a Broken, broken, broken record. In my head lie thoughts that can be wrote down In a thousands books. Thoughts that drown me in where’s your filter? You should have never said that! Where’s your filter? You should have never , like a broken—why did you, you should have, like a broken record. My head throbbing from all these absurd observations. My head spinning out of control No control, no control, no control The light is dimmed. My soul is damned for all eternity in my head. My thoughts keep screaming. Replaying every, why did you, you should have , where’s your .Like a broken, borken, broken,broken, broken record.  - thelma streete