(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.