Synthetic Medic · Song lyrics

Dispatching Idiot

Genre: Punk Rock
Released: April 13, 2026
Length: 2:39

The words

Lyrics

Verse 1

Clocked in late, headset half on Screen’s lit up, yeah I’m logged on Map’s all zoomed, I click and send Wrong town? Close enough my friend Address says “West”, I picked up “East” Now they’re drivin’ past at least ten streets Phone keeps ringing, let it sing If it’s important they’ll call back again

Pre-Chorus

They say I gotta double-check But that sounds like extra steps If the tones don’t drop? Not my fault It must be the tech

Chorus

I’m a dispatching idiot Send you anywhere, just deal with it Wrong address? Yeah I clicked real quick You’ll figure it out. Get used to it I’m a dispatching idiot Stackin’ calls and I’m skipping ‘em Radio silent? That’s your problem, man I hit “send”; that’s my job, I’m done

Verse 2

Multi-county road trip time Basic call but you’ll be fine CAD froze up, or maybe me Either way, not my emergency Unit’s yelling “yo where’s the tone?” I’m over here scrolling on my phone Plugged it in? I thought I did Wait… did I? Eh, it is what it is

Pre-Chorus

They say “lives are on the line” Yeah yeah yeah but you'll be fine But if it’s urgent, they’ll survive At least this time

Chorus 2

I’m a dispatching idiot Send you drivin’ just for kicks Wrong pin drop in the middle of nowhere Have fun getting there, good luck with it I’m a dispatching idiot Calls stack up? I’m ignoring ‘em Missed your tone? Must’ve glitched again Try refreshing it, not my problem

Bridge

Click. Send. Done. Next Don’t got time to second guess If it’s wrong, just reroute it You got wheels, go figure it out Everybody yelling in my ear “Where you send me? Why am I here?” Man I swear y’all act so stressed I’m doing my best… I guess

Chorus 3

I’m a dispatching idiot Yeah I said it, I commit to it Wrong street, wrong town, wrong everything But hey, I answered it I’m a dispatching idiot If it’s chaos, I’m the source of it You can call back, you can scream all day I’ll just send you to the wrong place

About this song

Dispatchers have an incredibly difficult job.

They coordinate units, answer phones, manage radios, decipher questionable addresses and somehow keep track of an entire system while several people are talking to them at once.

Good dispatchers are worth their weight in gold.

This song isn't about them.

This song is about that one dispatcher.

And apparently dispatchers know exactly who I'm talking about, because somehow this song became a hit with my friends who actually work in communications.

You know the one.

The address gets forced into CAD whether it makes sense or not.

Sometimes the tones drop with no information.

Sometimes the information comes with no tones.

Sometimes everybody is staring at the radio wondering whether they're actually supposed to be going somewhere.

And sometimes two crews seem to pass each other going opposite directions while both wondering how they became involved in this adventure.

Meanwhile, in my head, the person responsible is sitting comfortably at the dispatch console playing the most intense game of Solitaire anyone has ever witnessed.

Crews are rerouting.

Calls are stacking.

Somebody is driving toward a pin that appears to be located in a river.

But none of that matters right now.

There's a red seven that desperately needs to find a black eight.

“Dispatching Idiot” is obviously an exaggerated caricature.

Most dispatchers are working their asses off behind the scenes keeping the rest of us moving, usually while field crews lovingly blame them for absolutely everything.

But every system seems to have one person who can transform a completely ordinary call into a multi-county scavenger hunt.

And judging by the dispatchers who love this song...

they know who it is too.

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