March Of The Sinister Ducks
Everyone thinks they're such sweet little things
Ducks, Ducks! Quack, Quack! Quack, Quack!
Soft downy feathers and nice little wings
Ducks, Ducks! Quack, Quack! Quack, Quack!
But there's a poison I'd like to administer,
You think they're cuddly but I think they're sinister.
Ducks, Ducks! Quack, Quack! Quack, Quack!
Ducks, Ducks! Quack, Quack! Quack, Quack!
What are they doing at night in the park?
Ducks, Ducks! Quack, Quack! Quack, Quack!
Think of them waddling about in the dark.
Ducks, Ducks! Quack, Quack! Quack, Quack!
Sneering and whispering and stealing your cars,
Reading pornography, smoking cigars.
Ducks, Ducks! Quack, Quack! Quack, Quack!
Ducks, Ducks! Quack, Quack! Quack, Quack!
Nasty and small undeserving of life.
Ducks, Ducks! Quack, Quack! Quack, Quack!
They smirk at your hairstyle and sleep with your wife.
Ducks, Ducks! Quack, Quack! Quack, Quack!
Dressed in black jackets and horrible shoes,
Getting divorces and turning to booze.
Ducks, Ducks! Quack, Quack! Quack, Quack!
Ducks, Ducks! Quack, Quack! Quack, Quack!
Forcing old ladies to throw them some bread.
Ducks, Ducks! Quack, Quack! Quack, Quack!
Who could deny they'd be better off dead?
Ducks, Ducks! Quack, Quack! Quack, Quack!
Look closer and you may recoil in surprise,
At web-footed fascists with mad little eyes.
Ducks, Ducks! Quack, Quack! Quack, Quack!
Ducks, Ducks! Quack, Quack! Quack, Quack!
Ducks, Ducks! Quack, Quack! Quack, Quack!
Ducks, Ducks! Quack, Quack! Quack, Quack!
Marcha dos Patos Sinistros
Todo mundo acha que são coisinhas tão fofas
Patos, Patos! Quack, Quack! Quack, Quack!
Penas macias e asinhas bonitinhas
Patos, Patos! Quack, Quack! Quack, Quack!
Mas tem um veneno que eu queria dar,
Você acha que são adoráveis, mas eu acho que são sinistros.
Patos, Patos! Quack, Quack! Quack, Quack!
Patos, Patos! Quack, Quack! Quack, Quack!
O que será que fazem à noite no parque?
Patos, Patos! Quack, Quack! Quack, Quack!
Pense neles se arrastando no escuro.
Patos, Patos! Quack, Quack! Quack, Quack!
Zombando e sussurrando, roubando seus carros,
Lendo pornografia, fumando charutos.
Patos, Patos! Quack, Quack! Quack, Quack!
Patos, Patos! Quack, Quack! Quack, Quack!
Maldosos e pequenos, não merecem viver.
Patos, Patos! Quack, Quack! Quack, Quack!
Eles riem do seu cabelo e dormem com sua esposa.
Patos, Patos! Quack, Quack! Quack, Quack!
Vestidos de jaquetas pretas e sapatos horríveis,
Se divorciando e se entregando ao álcool.
Patos, Patos! Quack, Quack! Quack, Quack!
Patos, Patos! Quack, Quack! Quack, Quack!
Forçando velhinhas a jogar pão pra eles.
Patos, Patos! Quack, Quack! Quack, Quack!
Quem poderia negar que estariam melhor mortos?
Patos, Patos! Quack, Quack! Quack, Quack!
Olhe mais de perto e pode se surpreender,
Com fascistas de pés palmados e olhinhos insanos.
Patos, Patos! Quack, Quack! Quack, Quack!
Patos, Patos! Quack, Quack! Quack, Quack!
Patos, Patos! Quack, Quack! Quack, Quack!
Patos, Patos! Quack, Quack! Quack, Quack!
Composição: Alan Moore / Alex Green / David J