Down the trail, around the bend
There’s a pond the ducks call Waa-Wack
And in this pond there lived a duck
That no one called; his name was Klack Ack.
He walked jerky and looked awkward
And his feathers stuck out all wrong.
I forget if the flock did that to him
Or if he looked that way all along.
He was no ugly duckling,
Just full grown ugly.
He wasn’t a great flier
Like Jonathon Livingston Smugly.
He never even flew with the flock.
A little down, a little dumb,
People tried to ignore him
Leaving him begging for crumbs.
But he’d beg too hard, get too close
And scare the people away,
Always hungry, always alone,
Always getting in the way.
You’ve probably seen him before,
There’s a Klack Ack in every lake.
If you’ve ever wondered what happened to him
Well, he died make no mistake.
Nobody knows if he starved to death
Or if a beast caught him unprotected.
He may have died of loneliness
Since his death went undetected.