 Rubber Duck » Les lletres de cançons [+ Afegir +] |
1. _ Two-way Lovin'
(c.w. mccall, bill fries, chip davis)
Ev'ry evenin', when the sun goes down
And nobody can see me
I get my chevy an' i cruise around
Makin' love on my cb
I say, "breaker broker for the wolfman, baby
We lookin' for red ridin' hoods
We definitely wants to modulate
We on the side, in the woods"
[chorus]
Two-way lovin'
That's all i want to doo-woo-woo
Two-way lovin'
That's all i ever want to doo-oo-oo-oo-oo
An' she say "my, what a big pair of ears you have."
[chorus]
Mama wants an eighty-eight
Now the other evenin' i was all alone
Wasn't nothin' to do
I called my baby on my microphone
Says, "hello, where is you?"
She said her twenty was a-grandma's place
(which is down in the woods)
I ask her do she want to modulate?
Like a good hood should
[chorus]
Love me baby, hold me tight
Kiss me with your little mike
Don't you turn your squelch on me
Two-way lovin'
That's all i ever want to doo-doo-doo-doo doo-doo
Doo-doo?
She say, "my, what a big 10-4 you have, baby"
[chorus]
Mama hold your mike up tight
Daddy treat your beaver right
Gonna modulate all night
more free lyrics |
2. _ 'round The World With The Rubber Duck
[on the cb.]
Breaker, one-nine, this here's the duck again. you got a copy on me pig pen, c'mon? ah, negatory, pig pen, there ain't no way out 'cept for that one atlantic ocean. now listen, drop them hogs of
Omaha and get over here in a short, 'cause it definitely looks like we got us a problem.
Bears to the left; bears to the right
We didn't have no place to go.
They had us backed up clean to the shore,
And them cab-over petes don't float.
I says, "pig pen, i got me a good idea.
Them friends a' jesus gonna save us!
"so praise the lord and mister ford,
And follow that micra-bus, ten-four.
[now, imagine a bunch of rowdy pirates -- the buccaneer type, not software -- chanting the chorus.]
[chorus]
Yo ho ho, and a thousand trucks
Gonna take a bath with a rubber duck
Yo ho ho, and a lots a' luck
'round the world with the rubber ducky!
Yeah, we drove on the water like diesel whales
Sank about a hunnert-and-ten of 'em
I says, "pig pen, they just didn't have no faith
"they definitely gone ten-seven."
By the time we got into that piccadilly town,
'bout half of 'em was lost at sea
I says, "break one-nine for a ten-thirty-three"
What we got was the cotton-pickin' bbc
[spoken, in a sorta british accent]
I say, fabersham. looks likes the americans have got themselves another bloody convoy.
[chorus]
Yo ho ho, and a thousand trucks
Gonna take a bath with a rubber duck
Yo ho ho, and a lots a' luck
'round the world with the rubber ducky!
[spoken, in the same sorta british accent]
Good heavens! look at them all! half of them are sinking in the thames! hello! some of our truck chaps are assisting them. good show, actually. oh, well, ten-four and all that rubbish.
Well, we crossed that channel like snakes on glass
And stormed the beach about dawn
I says, "grab your shifters and punch 13
"we all goin' truckin' on the autobahn.
"now, pig pen, this here's the ultimate slab
"'cause there goes a mercedes truck."
He says, "break one-three for the strudel machine
"ya just blew the doors off'n the duck. how 'bout it?"
[spoken, in a sorta german accent. a really bad german accent.]
Oh, zehn-vier, rubber duck. ve are receiving you vall-to-vall, but the schpeed limit on za autobahn is triple-nickels. you travel too schlow, rubber duck. we gonna see you around. we gone. wiede
N.
[if you know the song, then you can skip this note. if you don't, then a bit of explanation is necessary. during the next verse, the chorus (the singers, not the words) is heard in the backgroun
At they're singing is what's printed in the tiny little letters. no, i am not making this up. that's what they're singing.]
Well, we stopped for a coffee in west berlin
Dumb, dumb, dumb. this is
The british had hundred-mile tea
Dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb.
I says, "pig pen, from here on it's wall-to-wall bears."
Dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb,
Says, "bash the wall; we gonna see."
Dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb.
Well, them big red bears must'a been in the bush
Dumb, dumb, dumb. this is
'cause we didn't see a one all day
Dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb,
So we raked up the leaves and we shook out the tree
Dumb, dumb, dumb. this is
'til they finally had something to say
Dumb, dumb, dumb.
You got it..
[spoken in a bad russian accent. a really bad... you know the rest.]
Comrade duck: you have been given until daybreak in murmansk to get your cotton-pickin' trucks out of the u. s. s. of r. you will copy!
[that 'dumb' chorus continues.]
Well, we shot them rigs through salt-mine city
Dumb, dumb
With a hammer and a sickle on down
Dumb, dumb
Then we hit the fan through the sea of japan
Dumb, dumb
Tooled into transistor town
Dumb, dumb
I says, "pig pen, this here must be the place,
Dumb, dumb
"'cause everybody's eatin' with sticks."
Dumb, dumb
He says, "ten-four, this here is cb land
Dumb, dumb
"'cause my channel knob just went crick."
Dumb, dumb
[spoken in a really bad japanese (fill in the blank)]
Ah so, lubba duck. you have a nice day today, betta day tomollow. we catch you on frip-frop. this one kamikaze ozzie; we gone. sayonara.
[chorus]
Yo ho ho, and a thousand trucks
Gonna take a bath with a lubba duck
Yo ho ho, and a rots a' ruck
'round the world with a lubba ducky!
[obviously, poritical collectness hadn't yet permeated the u. s. of a. :)]
[on the cb.]
Ah, ten-four, pig pen, what's your twenty? australia? mercy sakes, ain't nothin' down there but tasmanian devils and them q-alla bears. what's that? no double-nickel limit? we gonna be there in
Rt, pig pen. this here's the rubber duck, ten-ten and doin' it to it like pruitt used'ta do it to it. we gone. 'bye-'bye.
more free lyrics |
3. _ Audubon
Well, i was born in a town called audubon
Southwest iowa, right where it oughta been
Twenty-three houses, fourteen saloons,
And a feed mill in nineteen-thirty.
Had a neon sign, said "squealer feeds"
And the bus came through when they felt the need
And they stopped at a place there in town called the old home cafe
Now my daddy was a music lovin' man
He stood six-foot-seven, had big ol' hands
He'd lost two fingers in a chainsaw but he could still play the violin
And mom played piana, just the keys in the middle
And dad played a storm on his three-fingered fiddle
'cause that's all there was to do back there folks, except ta go downtown and watch haircuts
So i was raised on dust bowl tunes, you see
Had a six-tube radio an' no tv
It was so dog-goned hot i had to wet the bed in the summer just to keep cool.
Yeah, many's a night i'd lay awake
A-waitin' for a distant station break
Just a-settin' and a-wettin' an' a-lettin' that radio fry.
Well, i listened to nashville and tulsa and dallas
And oklahoma city gave my ear a callus
And i'll never forget them announcers at three a.m.
They'd come on an' say "friends, there's many a soul who needs us
"so send them letters an' cards ta jesus
"that's j-e-s-u-s friends, in care a' del rio, texas."
But the place i remember, on the edge a' town
Was the place where you really got the hard-core sound
Yeah, a place where the truckers used ta stop on their way to dees moins
There was signs all over them windowsills
Like "if the devil don't get ya, then roosevelt will"
And "the bank don't sell no beer, and we don't cash no checks."
Now them truckers never talked about nothin' but haulin'
And the four-letter words was really appallin'
They thought them home-town gals was nothin' but toys for their amusement.
Rode chevys and macks and big ol' stacks
They's always complainin' 'bout their livers an' backs
But they was fast-livin', strung-out, truck-drivin' son of a guns
Now the gal waitin' tables was really classy
Had a rebuilt motor on a fairly new chassis
And she knew how to handle them truckers; name was mavis davis
Yeah, she'd pour 'em a coffee, then she'd bat her eyes
Then she'd listen to 'em tell 'er some big fat lies
Then she'd ask 'em how the wife and kids was, back there in joplin?
Now mavis had all of her ducks in a row
Weighed ninety-eight pounds; put on quite a show
Remind ya of a couple a' cub scouts tryin' ta set up a sears, roebuck pup tent
There's no proposition that she couldn't handle
Next ta her, nothin' could hold a candle
Not a hell of a lot upstairs, but from there on down, disneyland!
Now the truckers, on the other hand, was really crass
They remind ya of fingernails a-scratchin' on glass
A-stompin' on in, leavin' tracks all over the montgomery ward linoleum
Yeah, they'd pound them counters and kick them stools
They's always pickin' fights with the local fools
But one look at mavis, and they'd turn into a bunch a' tomcats
Well, i'll never forget them days gone by
I's just a kid, 'bout four foot high
But i never forgot that lesson an' pickin' and singin', the country way
Yeah, them walkin', talkin' truck stop blues
Came back ta life in seventy-two
As "the old home filler-up an' keep on a-truckin' cafe"
Oh, the old home filler-up an' keep on a-truckin'
Oh, the old home filler-up an' keep on a-truckin'
Oh, the old home filler-up an' keep on a-truckin' cafe
Oh, the old home filler-up an' keep on a-truckin'
Oh, the old home filler-up an' keep on a-truckin'
Oh, the old home filler-up an' keep on a-truckin' cafe
more free lyrics |
4. _ Niobrara
(c.w. mccall, bill fries, chip davis)
Come ride with me cowboys
I'll tell you a story
Out where the whoopin' cranes fly
I'll show you the white bones
Of giants in sandstone
Out where the wind never dies
Come sit by the campfire
I'll sing you a sad song
Of rivers that never return
Play soft on the mouth-harp
Strum slow on the guitar
And leave all the mem'ries to burn
[chorus]
Roll on, niobrara
Roll on, niobrara
Roll on
I'll show you the bright shiny
Ribbon of silver
That flows through the sandhills at dawn
I'll find you the places
Where clear water races
Before all the traces are gone
[chorus]
Roll on, niobrara
Roll on, niobrara
Roll on
So pack up the bedroll
And cinch up the saddle
And head for the red mornin' sky
We'll sing one more song for
The wild niobrara
Out where the wind never dies
[chorus]
Roll on, niobrara
Roll on, niobrara
Goodbye
more free lyrics |
5. _ Sing Silent Night
(c.w. mccall, bill fries, chip davis)
When the snow falls on christmas eve,
And everything's white
I sit by the window,
And remember another night
When mama played the organ,
And we turned off all the lights
And we all stood around her
And sang silent night
The organ is quiet now,
And mama's gone
The sound of that christmas eve
Will live on and on
We sang all the old carols,
The hymns she loved to hear
And she played them over, one by one,
From memory, and by ear
And then she'd find the ancient album,
With its pages turned gold
And the crayon-colored paper star
I made so long ago
But brighter than any star
Was the love in mama's eyes
As she said, "merry christmas, kids",
And she kissed us goodnight
And the organ's quiet now,
And mama's gone
But the sound of that christmas eve
Will live on and on
The years have gone by now,
Since that last christmas eve
But the joy is still with me,
And the love will never leave
When mama played the organ,
And we turned off all the lights
And we all stood together
And sang the last silent night
more free lyrics |
6. _ Camp Bird Mine
(c.w. mccall, bill fries, chip davis)
'way out in colorado
In the camp bird mine
Down deep in the darkness
On level nine
Where the water trickles
An' your blood runs cold
There's a lonesome miner
Still lookin' for gold
He's way down deep...
In the camp bird mine
He never sees the snowfall
Never knows the spring
'cause its eternal midnight
Where he does his thing
He never feels the sunlight
Doesn't need the moon
He's had his lamp a-burnin'
Since 'ninety-two
He's way down deep...
In the camp bird mine
Way down deep...
Way down deep...
Way down deep...
Way down...
In the camp bird mine
They say you never see 'im
You just know he's there
But you can hear his hammer
In the devil's lair
Where the silver sparkles
An' your blood runs cold
There's a phantom miner
Still lookin' for gold
He's way down deep
In the camp bird mine
Way down deep...
Way down deep...
Way down deep...
Way down deep...
In the camp bird mine
more free lyrics |
7. _ Nishnabotna
(c.w. mccall, bill fries, chip davis)
One time when i's growin' up -- it was when i's a kid -- there was nothin' to do at home so i called up on a friend an' said "let's pack us a box lunch an' go down to the nishnabotna an' go
Min'. an' maybe look for some toads."
My friend said he thought that's a good idea 'cause he didn't have nothin' to do either an' he was outta toads.
So we packed up our box lunches an' we started out a-walkin', an' we come to a big iron bridge which was five miles from town where we observed a big sign which says "west nishnabotna"
Ays "this here's the place, an', an' now if we could just find some toads an' go for a good swim, we could have fun all day doin' nothin', just loafin' around in the creek."
We jumped into that dirty water an' i thought we might be able to swim in it, but we quickly discovered that we could not even begin to dog-paddle in it. be, because right where we was, the nish
Na was only four-an'-a-half inches deep. so we wound up a-crawlin' along down on all fours in it, through the mud an' beer cans an' yucky things an' old pieces a' cars.
We went past a bunch a' fenders an' a couple a' plymouth hubcaps, when we come to a place where we thought there might be some toads. when we was surprised by a farmer who told us to get on out
Ere an' to never come back or he'd call up the sheriff an' have us put into jail for the rest of our natural-born lives with nothin' to eat but bread an' water so we'd starve.
But time passes by real quickly when you're havin' fun, so we ran through the fenders and the mud to the bridge again. but when we got back there we sadly discovered that the sun had been out an
Backs was all blistered so bad we had to lay flat on our bellies for two weeks in bed which made us sick to our stomachs an' we didn't care about nothin' anymore.
It just ain't too good for your livers to go swimmin' in that river. you can get cut up pretty bad in there an' there ain't too many toads.
There's nothin' but, there's nothin' but mud in there an' there's all kinds a' crud, an' it's layin' all over the place so you'd better watch out.
If you wanna get sick, just go crawlin' around in that creek. there's a whole lot a' bad things that can happen to you.
No, it ain't, no, it ain't good for your liver to hunt toads in that river. the west nishnabotna is the creek of my childhood.
more free lyrics |
8. _ Ratchetjaw
(c.w. mccall, bill 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 gonna explain it to ya once.
You gotta go runnin' amuck in a pick-'em-up truck
With one a' those fancy sidebands?
Get four-on-the-floor and two on the door
Get a power mike in yer jaw-hand
Prepare to strike when ya key the mike
'cause ya never know who's a-listenin'
Some clown insists on a 10-36
This here's what you give 'im:
"four, good buddy, i made me a study
An' i figger it's the dark a' the moon, son
It's half-past spring an' a quarter ta fall
An' the big hand's a-settin' on noon, son
Now if the fish don't bite and the almanac's right
And the groundhog sees his shadow
A 10-36 goes tick-tock-tick."
And that's what i call ratchetjaw!
Gotta git ya a base, out there at yer place
With a forty-foot pole on the chimney
With a thousand watts in yer flowerpots
And a ree-mote line in the biffy
If ya feel a twitch when ya throw the switch
Ya gonna dim all the lights in wichita
Gonna send out a wave ta make the government rave
And this here's whatcha tell 'em all:
"yeah, four, good buddy, yer comin' in cruddy
But yer walkin' right through my wall, boy
Yer carrier's cool, you makin' me drool
You were definitely battin' my ball, boy
You hittin' me round about fifteen pound
You cut me up like a bandsaw
But what the heck, it's just a radio check."
And that there's how to ratchetjaw
[cb conversations. they're 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 roy? are you out there? come on
Ere, 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 anybody's sayin'.
[c.w.] buffalo roy? that's a dumb handle.
Wanna feel some pain? just turn up yer gain
Get a fearful earful a' garbage
Ta suppress a belch, just hit yer squelch
You can cut out all the carnage
You wanna have fun, you son-of-a-guns
Just get on the press-ta-talk switch
You gonna amuse 'em an' really confuse 'em
With a little ol' thing called ratchetjaw
Yeah, let them suckers think yer a trucker
Say stuff they can't understand, son
Just bounce up-an'-down while yer toolin' around
Gonna sound like a truck-drivin' man, son
Just tell yer beaver that you gonna leave 'er
You catch her on the bounce-around
If she comes back with a smart-off crack
Say "x-y-l, it's show-an'-tell. we definitely got us to go now.
Keep yer pants on honey, hang onto the money
Yer x-y-m's gotta blow now
Eighty-eight, thirds, and feed my bird
An' all them numbers upon ya all
If speed don't kill, then cb will."
And that's what i call ratchetjaw
[more cb conversations.]
Breaker, breaker, breaker, breaker, breaker, breaker, [repeated almost ad infinitum, punctuated by bouts 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'... s'not? some kind a' cotton-pickin'... you
N' me on, aren't cha? yeah, you puttin' me on, aren't cha? [laughter] 10-4. 10-4.
more free lyrics |
9. _ Super Slab Showdown
Me an' earl was workin' the superslab outside a' that ogallala?
When outta town come a local clown in a '65 impala
Had a 'coon tail flyin' off a' his whip antenna
We was haulin' a load a' them go-go girls
Truckin' 'em over to o-town
Old boy got on his microphone
Says "how's about a little showdown?"
Well, hot damn, i'm a gamblin' man,
So ev'rybody get yer bets down
'cause this old truck gonna make us a buck
Chicken in the bread pan, pickin' out vittles
Swing them heifers and away we go
Wake up, earl, we gots to race that pile a' junk over ta north platte city
Well, one-eyed bears and deuces wild
We got the back door pad-locked
He says, "bet five bucks and a side a' beef,
"i can beat them cows ta flat rock."
You hear that, earl? he says he's gonna whip ol' bessie here!
I says, "call your five and raise ya ten
"jes' kiss that chevy goodby, boy
"'cause when bessie hits that floatin' gear
"you gonna be eatin' hereford pie. yeah."
Well, hot damn, i'm a gamblin' man,
So ev'rybody get yer bets down
'cause this old truck gonna make us a buck
She gonna round them curves at thirty gees
A trunk full a' cows an' a hood full a' bees
Move it up a notch, earl.
Yeah, that's it. that's floatin' gear! c'mon bessie!
Well, tuck it on in and head it for the barn
If we don't win, we gonna sell the farm
If this old wreck don't break my neck,
We gonna take them cows to a discatheque
I says, "come on, earl, let's give it a whirl.
"that chevy is a-pickin' up speed."
Well, we crossed the platte at a hundred flat
Old bessie was a-blowin' the weeds
We definitely was in that monfort lane.
Yeah, we won the race with a bovine ace
When the chevy made a fatal pass
Yeah, he got too close
Got a terminal dose a' that good ol' hereford gas.
Phew!
Hot damn, i'm a gamblin' man,
So ev'rybody get yer bets down
'cause this old truck's gonna make us a buck
She's rollin' the boulevard shakedown
Hot damn, i'm a truckin' man
And i sorta like ta put my foot down
This old rig gonna blow your wig
Got go-go girls and a peterbilt cab
Gonna see ya all out on the superslab for a showdown
more free lyrics |
10. _ Windshield Wipers In The Rain
(c.w. mccall, bill fries, chip davis)
It's 4 a.m., and i'm a hundred miles from breakfast in wyomin'
I'm not complainin'
I got the radio on, playin' on a station from new orleans
An' now it's rainin'
I'm makin' time, tryin' ta keep it rollin'
And i'm all alone
[chorus]
Windshield wipers in the rain
I hear that country-western music comin' at me, through the thunder
A flash of lightnin'
I hear the d.j., sayin' "here's a little tune for all you truckers.
"i hope you like it."
I'm gettin' tired; my eyes are feelin' sandy
When i'm alone
[chorus]
Windshield wipers in the rain
I hear a freight train comin' down
I see the headlights flashin' 'round
I feel an earthquake in the ground
An' then he's gone
An' i'm alone
All alone
[chorus]
Windshield wipers in the rain
I feel a cold wyomin' chill comin' on me in the mornin'
I need some welcome
I see a sign, says it's only fifty miles to where i'm going
And i hope it's open
I look around, wishin' you was with me
But i'm alone
[chorus]
Windshield wipers in the rain
I see a distant neon sign
I turn the music way up high
I wipe the lonesome from my eyes
But i'm alone
[chorus]
Windshield wipers in the rain
more free lyrics |
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