Turn on the sounds that wash over my mind,
The sun slips through the windowpanes and past the blinds.
A happy tune on a sunny gloom,
Rise and shine on a catchy line.

Hooked, line and still sinking,
A morning filled with empty thinking.
Tea’s gone cold, barely taste the food anymore,
Everything blurred by the rush of anxiety
Too many things, too many questions, too-- too -- t—

---

Turn the music up.  
That's better.