I seldom ever almost never cross a bridge to ford a river
Down the banking I go spanking till I reach the stream below
All my confidence a brimming as I chance to go a swimming
With a waddling duck a paddling duck three ducklings in a row
As I hurry in a scurry through the muddy marshy slurry
The otters are a busy with their business to and fro
While a bitter chill is batting my bill is chitter chatting
To a waddling duck a paddling duck three ducklings in a row
Though this may sound absurd to a dicky ducky bird
With a dicky docky downy there to show
But a hilly billy chilly day makes fluffy feathers fly away
From a waddling duck a paddling duck three ducklings in a row
In the summer of a morning when the sunlight is a warming
Standing proud I quack and crow of my plumage all a glow
A cacophony of cackling is enough to raise the hackling
Of a waddling duck a paddling duck three ducklings in a row
This blissful peace alas soon over as winter does to meadow clover
With farmer in a field of snow the rifle rising oh so slow
Almighty bang and so much sorrow there will never be tomorrow
For the waddling duck the paddling duck three ducklings in a row
The farmer lies in cosy bed with rifle hung above his head
A feather quilted cover when wintry winds do blow
And softly underneath his crown a pillow stuffed with eiderdown
The waddling duck the paddling duck three ducklings in a row
Joe Sharp.
