This headset doesn't fit quite right,
The wire is tangled; the spring's too tight.
The speaker’s screaming in my right ear,
Making it hard to say what I hear.
Making it hard to say what I write,
Tying my ears down good and tight.
Straitjacketed by this little mike,
I know what a schizophrenic’s life is like.
Hearing little voices inside my head,
A little voices repeating what I just said.
Am I crazy? My thoughts are about shot.
This little headset’s got my mind in a knot.
This serial killer has got to go,
Become a milquetoast average Joe.
You could say my head's not screwed on right,
Time for a headset that's not so tight.
A new point of view that's out of sight.
Straight from one that's wrapped too tight.
How can I get a new point of view?
Trade in this headset for an array mike that’s new!
Copyright 2002 © Ronald W. Hull
Read War's End, the Novel