In The Quiet
Thomas Geelens · Pop / Indie
Reviewed 2026-02-24
The Roast
“"Sometimes in the quiet, I still hear your voice." Sometimes in the quiet, I hear the word 'sometimes' so many times it loses all meaning. Thomas went to the songwriting store, bought one structural device, and said "this'll do for the whole song." Every verse starts with "sometimes" like a man who learned one word in therapy and decided to build an entire personality around it. The saving grace? The final chorus actually lands. "I still say your name" carries more weight than all the 'sometimes' before it combined.”
Sally's not done with you yet.
Drop a URL, screenshot, or file and Sally will give you the honest truth.
The Bright Side
The three-chorus structure where each one shifts meaning is genuinely clever songwriting. It goes from nostalgia to acceptance to closure. That's a real arc, and most pop writers can't pull it off.
Hardest Sneer
“You used the word 'sometimes' so many times it filed for workers' compensation.”
Think your work can survive this?
Drop a URL, screenshot, or file and Sally will give you the honest truth.
Issues (5)
"Sometimes" Appears More Than Your Actual Point
Receipt
"Sometimes in the quiet" — you use this phrase SIX times. "Sometimes in the mornin'" twice more. That's eight 'sometimes' in a song that's barely two minutes. At some point it stops being a poetic device and starts being a cry for a thesaurus. You're not building repetition for effect; you're running out of ways to start a sentence.
Fix
Keep the 'sometimes' in verse 1 to establish the pattern, then BREAK it. Verse 2 could start with 'But lately' or 'Now when.' The payoff of repetition only works if you eventually subvert it.
"We're Not Like the Others" — Said Every Couple Ever
Receipt
"I can still hear us proudly say / We're not like the others" — Thomas. Babe. Every couple in the history of relationships has said this. It's the relationship equivalent of "I'm not like other girls." You were exactly like the others. You broke up. The proof is this song.
Fix
Show us HOW you thought you were different. Was it a ritual? A joke only you two shared? A place? "We're not like the others" is a conclusion. Give us the evidence that led to it, and let the listener reach the conclusion themselves.
The Verses Are Starving for Content
Receipt
Verse 1 is four lines. Verse 2 is two lines. Verse 3 is two lines. You're feeding your song a diet of breadcrumbs. "I hear that promise break / I wonder if we're too late" — that's your entire second verse? That's a text message, not a verse. The song is over before it even gets a chance to breathe.
Fix
Your choruses are doing all the heavy lifting while the verses are on break. Add one more couplet to each verse. Give us a specific memory, a sensory detail — what does the quiet actually sound like? What was the morning routine?
"If We Stayed Together We Wouldn't Have Survived" — Buried Lede
Receipt
"If we stayed together / We wouldn't have survived" — THIS is the most interesting line in the entire song, and you threw it in at the end of verse 3 like a casual afterthought. You spent the whole song being sad about the breakup and then just dropped "oh yeah we would've destroyed each other" with zero elaboration. That's the song, Thomas. That tension IS the song.
Fix
Build the entire narrative around this revelation. The quiet nostalgia hits different when we know staying together was dangerous. Move this insight earlier or expand on it — it's the emotional core you accidentally wrote and then ignored.
"Hearts Change Like They Do" — Like They Do What, Exactly?
Receipt
"Hearts change like they do" — This is a sentence that technically means nothing. Hearts change like they do? Yes, things happen the way they happen. Water is wet like it is. You've written the lyrical equivalent of a shrug emoji. It's filler dressed up as wisdom.
Fix
Replace the simile with something that actually illustrates how hearts change. "Hearts change like seasons" is cliché but at least it paints a picture. "Like they do" paints nothing. It's a blank canvas sold as art.