(C.W. McCall, Bill Fries, Davis)
YEE-HAW! Merciful sakes alive! You wanna be one a' them CBers, you gonna learn how to ratchetjaw! Pay now; I'm only gonna explain it to ya once.
You gotta go runnin' amuck in a pick-'em-up With one a' those fancy Get and two on the door Get a mike in yer jaw-hand to strike when ya key the mike 'Cause ya never know a-listenin' Some insists on a 10-36 This here's what you 'im:
"Four, buddy, I made me a study An' I figger the dark a' the moon, son It's half-past spring an' a ta fall An' the big hand's on noon, son Now if the fish bite and the almanac's right And the sees his shadow A goes tick-tock-tick." And that's what I ratchetjaw!
Gotta git ya a base, out at yer place With a forty-foot on the chimney With a thousand watts in yer And a ree-mote line in the If ya feel a twitch when ya the switch Ya gonna dim all the in Wichita Gonna send out a wave ta make the rave And this here's whatcha tell 'em
"Yeah, four, buddy, yer comin' in cruddy But yer right through my wall, boy Yer cool, you makin' me drool You were battin' my ball, boy You me round about fifteen pound You cut me up a bandsaw But the heck, it's just a radio check." And that how to ratchetjaw
[CB conversations. They're overlaid, as if you're listening to a line.]
[Woman's voice] Breaker, breaker, breaker, breaker. We lookin' for that one Buffalo Roy out there. Buffalo Roy, what's your twenty? Where are you anyway, Buffalo Are you out there? Come on in there, Buffalo Roy. 10-4.
[Man's voice] Lissen, you. Shut up on all breakers. One breaker's enough. [words missing]...channel all the time. Can't hear a damn thing anybody's sayin'.
[C.W.] Buffalo Roy? That's a handle.
Wanna feel some Just turn up yer gain Get a fearful a' garbage Ta suppress a belch, just hit yer You can cut out all the You wanna fun, you son-of-a-guns Just get on the switch You gonna 'em an' really confuse 'em With a little ol' thing ratchetjaw
Yeah, let them suckers think yer a Say stuff they understand, son Just up-an'-down while yer toolin' around Gonna sound a truck-drivin' man, son Just yer beaver that you gonna leave 'er You catch her on the If she comes back a smart-off crack Say "X-Y-L, it's show-an'-tell. We got us to go now. Keep yer on honey, hang onto the money Yer X-Y-M's gotta now Eighty-eight, thirds, and feed my An' all numbers upon ya all If speed don't kill, CB will." And what I call ratchetjaw
CB conversations.]
Breaker, breaker, breaker, breaker, breaker, breaker, [repeated almost ad infinitum, by bouts of laughter]
[Man's voice. Begins deep, slowly rising to Shirley and Squirrely squeakiness.] Yeah, 10-4, we got ya, breaker. Come back on that? Say, what kind a'... s'not? some kind a' cotton-pickin'... you puttin' me on, aren't Yeah, you puttin' me on, aren't cha? [Laughter] 10-4. 10-4.