(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 go runnin' amuck in a pick-'em-up truck With one a' those fancy Get and two on the door Get a mike in yer jaw-hand Prepare to strike when ya key the 'Cause ya never know who's Some clown on a 10-36 here's what you give 'im:
"Four, good buddy, I made me a An' I figger the dark a' the moon, son half-past spring an' a quarter ta fall An' the big a-settin' on noon, son Now if the fish don't and the almanac's right And the sees his shadow A 10-36 tick-tock-tick." And what I call ratchetjaw!
Gotta git ya a base, out there at yer a forty-foot pole on the chimney With a thousand in yer flowerpots And a line in the biffy If ya feel a twitch ya throw the switch Ya dim all the lights in Wichita Gonna send out a wave ta make the rave And here's whatcha tell 'em all:
"Yeah, four, buddy, yer comin' in cruddy But yer walkin' right my wall, boy Yer carrier's cool, you makin' me You definitely battin' my ball, boy You hittin' me round about pound You cut me up like a But what the heck, it's a radio check." And there's how to ratchetjaw
[CB conversations. They're overlaid, as if listening to a party line.]
[Woman's voice] Breaker, breaker, breaker, breaker. We lookin' for one Buffalo Roy out there. Buffalo Roy, what's your twenty? Where are you anyway, Buffalo Roy? 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 some pain? 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 have fun, you Just get on the switch You gonna amuse 'em an' really 'em With a little ol' thing ratchetjaw
Yeah, let them suckers yer a trucker Say they can't understand, son Just bounce up-an'-down while yer toolin' Gonna sound a truck-drivin' man, son Just yer beaver that you gonna leave 'er You catch her on the If she comes back with a 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 X-Y-M's gotta now Eighty-eight, thirds, and my bird An' all numbers upon ya all If don't kill, then CB will." And that's 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 me on, aren't cha? Yeah, you puttin' me on, aren't cha? [Laughter] 10-4. 10-4.