Headphones (or head-phones in the early days of telephony and radio) are a pair of small listening devices that are designed to be worn on or around the head over a user's ears. They are electroacoustic transducers, which convert an electrical signal to a corresponding sound in the user's ear. Headphones are designed to allow a single user to listen to an audio source privately, in contrast to a loudspeaker, which emits sound into the open air, for anyone nearby to hear. Headphones are also known as earspeakers, earphones or, colloquially, cans. Circumaural and supra-aural headphones use a band over the top of the head to hold the speakers in place. The other type, known as earbuds or earphones consist of individual units that plug into the user's ear canal. In the context of telecommunication, a headset is a combination of headphone and microphone. Headphones either connect directly to a signal source such as an audio amplifier, radio, CD player, portable media player, mobile phone, video game consoles, electronic musical instrument, or use wireless technology such as bluetooth or FM radio. Early headphones were first used by radio pioneers (crystal sets) and also by radio telephone and telegraph operators allowing a better audio reception without disturbing others around. Initially the audio quality was mediocre and a step forward was the invention of high fidelity headphones.
Think I'm stranded but I don't know where
I got this diamond that don't know how to shine
In the sun where these dark winds wail
And these children leave their rulers behind
As we cross ten leagues from a Rubicon
With matchsticks for my bones
If we could learn how to freeze ourselves alive
We could learn to leave these burdens to burn
Cast out these creatures of woe
Who shattered themselves
Fighting a fire with your bare hands
Now my journey takes me further south
I want to hear what the blind men sing
With their fossils and their gypsy bones
I'll stand beside myself so I'm not alone
And how can I new again
What rusts every time it rains?
And the rain it comes and floods our lungs
We're just orphans in a tidal wave's wake
If I wake up and see my maker coming
With all of his crimson and his iron desire
We'll drag the streets with the baggage of longing
To be loved or destroyed