Luyện nghe bài hát Ratchetjaw

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

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

You gotta go runnin' amuck in a truck
With one a' those fancy
Get and two on the door
Get a mike in yer jaw-hand
Prepare to when ya key the mike
'Cause ya never know a-listenin'
Some insists on a 10-36
This here's you give 'im:

"Four, buddy, I made me a study
An' I it's the dark a' the moon, son
It's half-past an' a quarter ta fall
An' the big hand's on noon, son
Now if the don't 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 there at yer
With a pole on the chimney
With a thousand watts in yer
And a ree-mote line in the
If ya a twitch when ya throw the switch
Ya dim all the lights in Wichita
send out a wave ta make the government rave
And this here's tell 'em all:

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

[CB conversations. They're overlaid, as if you're 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 Roy? Are you out there? Come on in there, Roy. 10-4.

[Man's voice] Lissen, you. up on all them 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 pain? Just turn up yer
Get a earful a' garbage
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 amuse 'em an' really confuse 'em
With a little ol' thing called

Yeah, let them suckers yer a trucker
Say stuff they understand, son
Just bounce up-an'-down 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 back 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, hang the money
Yer X-Y-M's blow now
Eighty-eight, thirds, and feed my
An' all them 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, punctuated by of laughter]

[Man's voice. Begins deep, slowly rising to Shirley and 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.