No animal is half so vile 
As Crocky–Wock, the crocodile. 
On Saturdays he likes to crunch 
Six juicy children for his lunch 
And he especially enjoys 
Just three of each, three girls, three boys.  
He smears the boys (to make them hot)  
With mustard from the mustard pot. 


But mustard doesn't go with girls, 
It tastes all wrong with plaits and curls.  
With them, what goes extremely well 
Is butterscotch and caramel. 
It's such a super marvelous treat 
When boys are hot and girls are sweet. 
At least that's Crocky's point of view 
He ought to know. He's had a few. 


That's all for now. It's time for bed. 
Lie down and rest your sleepy head... 
Ssh! Listen! What is that I hear,  
Galumphing softly up the stair? 
Go lock the door and fetch my gun! 
Go on child, hurry! Quickly run! 
No, stop! Stand back! He's coming in! 
Oh, look, that greasy greenish skin! 
The shining teeth, the greedy smile! 
It's CROCKY-WOCK, THE CROCODILE!