March of the Sinister Ducks (исполнитель: Alan Moore)
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’ll sneer at your hairstyle and sleep with your wife. Ducks. Ducks. Quack-quack. Quack-quack. Dressed in plaid 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 closely and you will recoil in surprise At web-footed fascists with mad little eyes! Ducks. Ducks. Quack-quack. Quack-quack. Ducks. Ducks. Quack-quack. Quack-quack.