Text
I may be hard-of-hearing
but I’ve got pride
coming out of my ears.
That doesn’t mean
communi-gay-tion
is always easy though.
I read lips, you read lipstick.
Let’s hear it for the boy?
Here we go again.
I’ll sing a different tune, thank you.
In fact, I’ll tune you out.
Now don’t tympanic—
it’s no great hearing loss.
On the advice of Nellie Forbush,
I went and washed that man
right out of my hair and
eardrummed him out
of my dreams.
Sorry to hear that?
That’s neither here nor there.
And now I think I’ll
turn off my listening ears,
remove the cool-aid from the cups,
and hear what I want to hear—
something laudable,
not audible.
Because here’s the deal:
I’m hear
-ing impaired,
I’m queer,
get…
Well, you’ve heard all this already.
Now hear this:
from here on out,
let’s be all ears, not all fears;
let’s differentiate, not differenti-hate.
If you don’t,
you’ll never hear the end of it.
Oh, you heard me loud and queer?
Good.
Glad to hear it.