Luyện nghe bài hát Ratchetjaw

(C.W. McCall, Fries, Chip Davis)

YEE-HAW! Merciful sakes alive! You wanna be one a' them CBers, you gonna learn how to ratchetjaw! Pay attention now; I'm only explain it to ya once.

You gotta go runnin' amuck in a truck
With one a' fancy sidebands?
Get four-on-the-floor and two on the
Get a mike in yer jaw-hand
Prepare to strike ya key the mike
'Cause ya never know who's
clown insists on a 10-36
This here's you give 'im:

"Four, good buddy, I me a study
An' I it's the dark a' the moon, son
It's half-past spring an' a quarter ta
An' the big hand's on noon, son
Now if the fish bite and the almanac's right
And the groundhog his shadow
A goes tick-tock-tick."
And that's I call ratchetjaw!

git ya a base, out there at yer place
With a pole on the chimney
With a watts in yer flowerpots
And a ree-mote line in the
If ya feel a twitch when ya throw the
Ya gonna dim all the lights in
Gonna out a wave ta make the government rave
And this whatcha tell 'em all:

"Yeah, four, good buddy, yer in cruddy
But yer walkin' right my wall, boy
Yer cool, you makin' me drool
You definitely battin' my ball, boy
You hittin' me round about pound
You cut me up like a
But the heck, it's just a radio check."
And there's how to ratchetjaw

[CB conversations. overlaid, as if you're listening to a party 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 them breakers. One breaker's enough. [words missing]...channel all the time. Can't a damn thing anybody's sayin'.

[C.W.] Buffalo That's a dumb handle.

feel some pain? Just turn up yer gain
Get a fearful earful a'
Ta a belch, just hit yer squelch
You can cut out all the
You wanna fun, you son-of-a-guns
get on the press-ta-talk switch
You gonna amuse 'em an' really 'em
With a little ol' called ratchetjaw

Yeah, let them suckers think yer a
Say stuff can't understand, son
Just bounce up-an'-down while yer around
Gonna sound like a man, son
tell yer beaver that you gonna leave 'er
You catch her on the
If she comes with a smart-off crack
Say "X-Y-L, it's show-an'-tell. We got us to go now.
Keep yer pants on honey, onto the money
Yer gotta blow now
Eighty-eight, thirds, and my bird
An' all them upon ya all
If speed don't kill, CB will."
And that's what I ratchetjaw

CB conversations.]

Breaker, breaker, breaker, breaker, breaker, breaker, [repeated ad infinitum, punctuated by bouts of laughter]

[Man's voice. 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 cha? Yeah, you puttin' me on, aren't cha? [Laughter] 10-4. 10-4.