A Three-Pipe Problem

(To the Tune of “Little Brown Jug”)

Well, I share rooms with Sherlock Holmes,

A flat in Baker Street:

2-2-1-B, that famed address—

It’s comfy and discreet!

Holmes battles crimes, solves mysteries,

Those in peril come to him.

He solves the case, be it quite mundane

Or a Three-Pipe Prob-e-lem!

It’s a Three-Pipe Problem, yes, I see—

It’s all so element-a-ry . . .

To Sherlock Holmes, but not to me—

That’s John H. Watson, M.D.

Whether Speckled Band or Yellow Face,

You know that Holmes is on the case.

No Baskerville Hound can get him down—

‘Gainst Silver Blaze, he’d win the race!

No, not Moriarty nor Colonel Moran

Can get the best of him!

Holmes always prevails, though the villain rails

At his Three-Pipe Prob-e-lem!

So a Three-Pipe Problem, you should see,

Is all so element-a-ry . . .

To Sherlock Holmes, but not to me—

I’m John H. Watson, M.D.

Well, I tend to see, but I don’t observe,

Or so Holmes says to me.

But I’m always faithful, I’m the perfect foil

To the best sleuth there’ll ever be!

I’m Holmes’ chronicler, his confident,

A friend to the bitter end.

I record his adventures, whether short and sweet,

Or a Three-Pipe Prob-e-lem!

Yes, a Three-Pipe Problem, by Jove—I see!

It’s really element-a-ry . . .!

To Sherlock Holmes . . .(sigh) but still not to me . . .

(But that’s all right, ‘cause) I’m John H. Watson, M.D.!

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