(Originally recorded by The Who at Pye Studios, London in October 1966) Look, he's crawling up my wall Black and hairy, very small Now he's up above my head Hanging by a little thread Boris the spider Boris the spider Now he's dropped on to the floor Heading for the bedroom door Maybe he's as scared as me Where's he gone now, I can't see Boris the spider Boris the spider Creepy, crawly Creepy, crawly Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly There he is wrapped in a ball Doesn't seem to move at all Perhaps he's dead, I'll just make sure Pick this book up off the floor Boris the spider Boris the spider Creepy, crawly Creepy, crawly Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly He's come to a sticky end Don't think he will ever mend Never more will he crawl 'round He's embedded in the ground Boris the spider Boris the spider