The army doctor's gentle in his touch
A grey-haired man with a friendly smile
His practice, young and thriving, is his crutch
He prides himself in a humble lifestyle
But the army doctor's visage will give
No hint of the depth of his history;
Of the greatest detective that ever lived;
A love affair, shrouded in mystery
On his way home, by the cover of night
He looks on St. Bart's Hospital and weeps
While he mourns the love that was his by right
But the love he was not allowed to keep
With the whole of London blind to his strife,
The noble army doctor takes his life.
