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 now; I'm only gonna explain it to ya once.

You gotta go runnin' in a pick-'em-up truck
With one a' those fancy
Get four-on-the-floor and two on the
Get a mike in yer jaw-hand
to strike when ya key the mike
'Cause ya never know a-listenin'
Some insists on a 10-36
This what you give 'im:

"Four, buddy, I made me a study
An' I figger the dark a' the moon, son
It's half-past spring an' a ta fall
An' the big a-settin' on noon, son
Now if the don't bite and the almanac's right
And the groundhog sees his
A goes tick-tock-tick."
And that's I call ratchetjaw!

git ya a base, out there at yer place
With a forty-foot pole on the
With a thousand in yer flowerpots
And a ree-mote line in the
If ya feel a when ya throw the switch
Ya gonna dim all the lights in
Gonna send out a wave ta make the rave
And this here's whatcha 'em all:

"Yeah, four, buddy, yer comin' in cruddy
But yer walkin' through 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 what the heck, it's a radio check."
And that there's how to

[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 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 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.

Wanna feel some pain? Just turn up yer
Get a fearful earful a'
Ta suppress a belch, hit yer squelch
You can cut out all the
You have fun, you son-of-a-guns
get on the press-ta-talk switch
You gonna amuse 'em an' really 'em
With a little ol' thing called

Yeah, let them think yer a trucker
Say they can't understand, son
Just up-an'-down while yer toolin' around
Gonna like a truck-drivin' man, son
Just 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, hang the money
Yer gotta blow now
Eighty-eight, thirds, and feed my
An' all numbers 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 almost ad infinitum, punctuated by bouts of

[Man's voice. Begins deep, slowly 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.