Verse 1) Step into the story, hear the baritone sound Where slit lamps fade and the blue notes abound From Moorfields halls to Birmingham nights Now he trades OCTs for late jazz flights (Verse 2) Emeritus mind with a baritone cry Uveitis fades when the low tones sigh Retired from clinics but not from the groove Diagnosing solos with nothing to prove (Chorus) Oh Professor Murray plays it slow and wise Smooth like a fundus under clear blue skies From red eye clinics to jazz so sweet Now he swings with The Bees and a backbeat (Verse 3) Dexter in the headphones, “Go” on repeat Moseley nights with a laid-back beat Farmers’ markets, festivals, soul in the air Baritone sax with that velvet flair (Bridge) Cockney roots but the Midlands home With Tricia, the girls, and a well-worn tone From Amsterdam labs to teaching the young Still dropping knowledge like a sax line sung (Chorus) Oh Professor Murray plays it cool and clean Smoother than the sharpest OCT machine From macular dreams to Brentford cheers Swinging through retirement years (Outro) So here’s to the doc with the jazzman’s soul From eye charts straight to a tenor role If your vision’s blurred, don’t you despair He’ll prescribe you swing in the midnight air
