The words are courtesy of my wife who is deathly terrified by spiders. Sung to the tune of “Itsy, Bitsy Spider.”
“A poisonous arachnid climbed up the water spout.
You leaned to get a drink and it bit you on the face.
Now you have a necrotic, rotting, nasty flesh wound.
All because you leaned over to get a simple drink.
Nasty spider…”