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' in a pick-'em-up truck
one a' those fancy sidebands?
Get four-on-the-floor and two on the
Get a power mike in yer
Prepare to when ya key the mike
'Cause ya never who's a-listenin'
Some clown insists on a
This what you give 'im:

"Four, good buddy, I me a study
An' I figger 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 what I call ratchetjaw!

git ya a base, out there at yer place
With a forty-foot pole on the
a thousand watts in yer flowerpots
And a ree-mote line in the
If ya feel a twitch ya throw the switch
Ya gonna dim all the lights in
Gonna out a wave ta make the government 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 definitely my ball, boy
You hittin' me round about fifteen
You cut me up a bandsaw
But what the heck, just 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 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 hear a damn thing sayin'.

[C.W.] Roy? That's a dumb handle.

Wanna feel some pain? 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 suckers think yer a trucker
Say stuff they understand, son
Just bounce while yer toolin' around
sound like a truck-drivin' man, son
Just tell yer beaver you gonna leave 'er
You her on the bounce-around
If she comes back with a smart-off
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 kill, then CB will."
And that's I call ratchetjaw

CB conversations.]

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

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