Oh the cramp in the night-time it strikes you in your bed;
It seizes on yer leg until you wish that you were dead.
And like the jolly birdie you rise up in the air,
Then you fall back on the bed with the sweat all in your hair.

Oh the cramp in the morning it gets you in your hips
And you rise up in the air with a scream upon yer lips.
You wake your grumpy neighbours who curse you with their shouts
And when the fight is o’er you get three months or thereabouts.

Oh the cramp in the daytime is not so very bad,
But it gets to you in places that you didn’t know you had.
There’s shouting and there’s screaming and then you come crashing down,
Which gets you funny looks in the centre of the town.

Oh the cramp in the evening it gets you everywhere
And you jiggle and you wriggle as you sit upon your chair.
And then you stand and jump and shout and make a wild display
Which leaves you quite embarrassed in the middle of the play.

And when your time is over and they lay you in your grave
The coffin starts to jump about, yer voice begins to rave.
And just as they begin to flee with all their might and main,
They’ll dimly hear the cry,
‘Oh no! The cramp has struck again!’