In the motorcycle sidecar
Of my uncle's Yamaha
Are a pair of baby ducklings
That we nicknamed Zim and Za
My uncle didn't realize
That a duck had laid her brood
In a rusty motorcycle
That he'd hardly ever used
When we took them from the sidecar
They went 'QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK'
And kept up the commotion
Until we put them back
My uncle fixed the bike up
And took them for a spin
I made them little helmets
Out of rubber bands and tin
The children jump and giggle
As Zim and Za cruise past
My uncle honks his horn--beep beep!
And then speeds off real fast
My uncle is a fellow
Who enjoys a good duck roast
But now Zim and Za are famous
And my uncle likes to boast:
"It's the only Motorquackle
In a hundred thousand miles!
And everywhere I take it
All the folks erupt in smiles!"
The ducks who don't choose sidecars
As alternatives to nests
Might end up on a dinner plate
Divided, legs and breasts
But Zim and Za are special
They're as lucky as it gets
As official Motorquacklers
They're my uncle's favorite pets.
