Luyện nghe bài hát Ratchetjaw

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

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

You gotta go amuck in a pick-'em-up truck
With one a' those sidebands?
Get four-on-the-floor and two on the
Get a power in yer jaw-hand
to strike when ya key the mike
'Cause ya never know who's
clown insists on a 10-36
This here's what you give

"Four, buddy, I made me a study
An' I figger it's the a' the moon, son
It's spring an' a quarter ta fall
An' the big a-settin' on noon, son
Now if the fish don't bite and the right
And the sees his shadow
A 10-36 tick-tock-tick."
And what I call ratchetjaw!

Gotta git ya a base, out at yer place
a forty-foot pole on the chimney
With a thousand watts in yer
And a line in the biffy
If ya feel a twitch when ya throw the
Ya gonna dim all the in Wichita
Gonna send out a wave ta the government rave
And here's whatcha tell 'em all:

"Yeah, four, good buddy, yer comin' in
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 a bandsaw
But the heck, it's just 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 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 them breakers. One 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 up yer gain
Get a earful a' garbage
Ta suppress a belch, just hit yer
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' confuse 'em
With a little ol' called ratchetjaw

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

CB conversations.]

Breaker, breaker, breaker, breaker, breaker, breaker, [repeated almost ad infinitum, punctuated by bouts of

[Man's voice. Begins deep, slowly rising to Shirley and Squirrely squeakiness.] Yeah, 10-4, we got ya, breaker. Come back on 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.