I want a new duck. One that won't try to bite. One that won't chew a hole
in my socks. One that won't quack all night. I want a new duck. One
with big webbed feet. One that knows how to wash my car, And keep his
room real neat. One that won't raid the ice box. One that'll stay in
shape. One that's never gonna try To migrate or escape, Or I'll tie
him up with duck tape. I want a new duck. A mallard, I think. One that
won't make a mess of my house, Or build a nest in the bathroom sink. I
want a new duck. One that won't steal my beer. One that won't stick his
bill in my mail. One that knows "The duck stops here." One that
won't drive me crazy Waddling all around. One who'll teach me how to
swim, And help me not to drown. And show me how to get down. "How
to get down", baby. Get it? (quack, quack, quack, quack, quack) I
want a new duck. Not a swan or a goose. Just a drake I can dress real
cute. Think I'm gonna name him Bruce. I want a new duck. Not a quail
or an owl. One that won't molt too much. One that won't smell too
foul. One that won't beg for breadcrumbs, Hangin' around all day. He'd
better mind his manners. Better do just what I say, Or he's gonna be duck
pate'. Duck pate', yeah yeah.