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I feel like singing some times.

While lucky enough to be in such a state, I have not (possibly calling all further action to a halt for a quick think about it before I go on ahead with something for the first time ever) actually gone ahead and done it, partly fearful of offending the neighbours' sensibilities, partly realising it's a bit silly to be playing out rather tried and trite sayings, and also partly knowing full well that the sound that were to come out of my mouth, should I see fit to burst into song, would more likely than not be nothing whatsoever like what it is I'd intended to burst into, and this despite my own overwhelming idea of what it is, exactly, I should be sounding like.
A difficult position to be in, and you no doubt sympathise. Grateful that I haven't gone and sung out loud, but sympathetic, either because you're just that sort of person that's bound to sympathise, especially when someone's going on and on, and you haven't much hope of shutting them up without a benign nod and perhaps a forgiving smile every once in a while, or because you, too, know how painful it can be to want desperately to sing out loud, but, for noise pollution or dignity's sake, you daren't.

Perhaps even you, too, have hummed slightly, and looked furtively around, to see if anyone's noticed. You might have a suspicion that the humming may have been off-key, but you may have assumed it was just the acoustics.
A bit like having only a spoonful of ice cream, so as not to break your diet, but to gently encourage your diet into thinking it might be over sooner rather than later, if only it would cooperate and take off with ten to thirty or so pounds of thigh, stomach, whathaveyou that you might want to be rid of.
Only, instead of the spoonful of ice cream that was your humming (as we were simply making an analogy with the ice cream, remember) soothing the savage beast that is your diet of a desire to sing out loud, the spoonful of ice cream becomes a torrent of frosty sugared cream (and here's probably where the analogy begins to look slightly ridiculous), seeking and destroying every last bit of willpower your diet have, at some point, possessed (and possessed with intent to use), as does your very own will to refrain from contributing your melodious ode to joys to the heavens and your general vicinity go galloping away like a diet would, had that metaphor ever been applied to a diet.
Yes, this happened in the grocers. And no, I'm not allowed back in again.

disclaimer:
A moment of epiphany will come to us all. For some of us, it may be the touch of someone's hand, for others of us, it may be a rain drop in the middle of the sidewalk. For others still, it may be aliens. With green teeth.