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.