The Cowboy Duck

While out one day, just for a doddle

I met a duck who couldn’t waddle

I said to him “This is quite strange,”

“how do you walk out on the range.”

He said “I ride a horse out there”

“a cowboy duck, without a care”

“I ride around the whole day long,”

“riding round singing a cowboy song.”

“You see waddling’s no good to me”

“I’m a cowboy duck, wild and free.”

He rode on then, further out west

A cowboy duck in a cowboy vest

He’s out there somewhere still I know

Way out west, where the wild ducks go.

I’ll see him one day when I’m grown

and I’ve gone west; ridden, not flown.

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About a foolhardy florilegium

Nullius addictus iurare in verba magistri
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