Luyện nghe bài hát Ratchetjaw

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

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

You gotta go runnin' amuck in a pick-'em-up
With one a' those sidebands?
Get and two on the door
Get a mike in yer jaw-hand
to strike when ya key the mike
'Cause ya never who's a-listenin'
clown insists on a 10-36
This here's you give 'im:

"Four, buddy, I made me a study
An' I it's the dark a' the moon, son
half-past spring an' a quarter ta fall
An' the big hand's on noon, son
Now if the fish bite and the almanac's right
And the sees his shadow
A goes tick-tock-tick."
And that's what I ratchetjaw!

git ya a base, out there at yer place
With a forty-foot on the chimney
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 the government rave
And this whatcha tell 'em all:

"Yeah, four, good buddy, yer in cruddy
But yer walkin' right my wall, boy
Yer carrier's cool, you me drool
You were battin' my ball, boy
You hittin' me round about fifteen
You cut me up like a
But what the heck, it's just a 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 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, 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.] Buffalo Roy? a dumb handle.

Wanna feel pain? Just turn up yer gain
Get a fearful earful a'
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' really 'em
With a little ol' called ratchetjaw

Yeah, let them suckers yer a trucker
Say stuff can't understand, son
Just bounce 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, show-an'-tell. We definitely got us to go now.
Keep yer pants on honey, hang onto the
Yer gotta blow now
Eighty-eight, thirds, and my bird
An' all numbers upon ya all
If don't kill, then CB will."
And that's what I ratchetjaw

CB conversations.]

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

[Man's 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'... 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.