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There once was a duckling called Danny
     Who would quack at the least little thing.
He quacked at the wind on the water;
     He quacked at the flowers in spring.

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He quacked when the children came running
     With bags that were bulging with bread.
He quacked when they started to throw it;
     Then stopped quacking and ate it instead.

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When the bread was all gone, he felt lazy
      And trotted off back to his lake,
But a sharp little pain in his tummy
     Told Danny he’d made a mistake,

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For he’d eaten too much and felt ill now.
     He quacked and cried loudly with pain,
But his brothers, now tired of his quacking,
     Said: 'Oh, that‘s Danny just quacking again!'

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'Will somebody help me?' cried Danny.
      'I really am feeling quite ill,'
But the other ducks laughed and ignored him
    As his quacking continued, quite shrill.
                        
Like all other ducks he discovered:
    If your quacking’s becoming a bore,
When you really need someone to help you,
     You’ll find that you’re sadly ignored.

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