Luyện nghe bài hát Ratchetjaw

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

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

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

"Four, buddy, I made me a study
An' I figger it's the a' the moon, son
half-past 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 goes tick-tock-tick."
And what I call ratchetjaw!

Gotta git ya a base, out there at yer
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 the switch
Ya gonna dim all the in Wichita
Gonna send out a wave ta make the government
And this whatcha tell 'em all:

"Yeah, four, good buddy, yer comin' in
But yer walkin' through my wall, boy
Yer carrier's cool, you me drool
You definitely battin' my ball, boy
You me round about fifteen pound
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 you're listening to a 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? a dumb handle.

Wanna some pain? Just turn up yer gain
Get a fearful a' garbage
Ta suppress a belch, hit yer squelch
You can cut out all the
You wanna fun, you son-of-a-guns
Just get on the press-ta-talk
You gonna 'em an' really confuse 'em
With a little ol' called ratchetjaw

Yeah, let them think yer a trucker
Say they can't understand, son
Just bounce up-an'-down yer toolin' around
Gonna like a truck-drivin' man, son
Just tell yer that you gonna leave 'er
You her on the bounce-around
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 on honey, hang onto the money
Yer gotta blow now
Eighty-eight, thirds, and feed my
An' all them numbers ya all
If speed kill, then 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. Begins deep, slowly rising to 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.