Lyrics
“The Mass (> 3 cm)”
(Verse 1)
I am the shadow, large and deep,
The anxious promise that I keep.
I am no nodule, small and shy,
I am the Mass, who fills the eye.
Greater than 3 centimeters wide,
I am the thing you cannot hide.
(Chorus)
Oh, I’m the Mass, the $> 3 \text{ cm}$ sign,
The shadow on the dividing line.
Am I malignant? Am I benign?
I am the question, the vital sign.
(Verse 2)
I am the Malignant, dark and dread,
The uncontrolled, the widespread.
I am the primary, the squamous foe,
The one that starts and loves to grow.
Sometimes I hollow, break my core,
A Cavitating, open door.
(Chorus)
Oh, I’m the Mass, the $> 3 \text{ cm}$ sign,
The shadow on the dividing line.
Am I malignant? Am I benign?
I am the question, the vital sign.
(Verse 3)
But I am not just cancer’s seed,
I can be an Infectious deed.
A fungal ball, an abscess deep,
A different, septic vow I keep.
I am the war, the body’s fight,
A purulent and fevered night.
(Chorus)
Oh, I’m the Mass, the $> 3 \text{ cm}$ sign,
The shadow on the dividing line.
Am I malignant? Am I benign?
I am the question, the vital sign.
(Bridge)
But look again, and look so keen,
A different story can be seen.
If I hold Fat, a golden clue,
A “Hamartoma,” Benign and true.
If I am Calcified and white,
A healed old scar, a granuloma’s light.
(Outro)
So I am many, I am all,
The shadow growing on the wall.
But my first name, the one you see,
Is Mass, because I’m $> 3 \text{ cm}$.
The final test, the vital task,
I am the question… you must ask.
A Poem
“The Mass (> 3 cm)”
I am the shadow, large and deep,
The anxious promise that I keep.
I am no nodule, small and shy,
I am the Mass, who fills the eye.
Greater than 3 centimeters wide,
I am the thing you cannot hide.
I am the Malignant, dark and dread,
The uncontrolled, the widespread.
I am the primary, the squamous foe,
The one that starts and loves to grow.
I am the fear, the final cost,
The battle that must not be lost.
Sometimes I hollow, break my core,
A Cavitating, open door.
My walls are thick, my center dies,
A necrotic hole, beneath your eyes.
A sign of cancer, or TB’s lair,
I am the cave, the empty air.
But I am not just cancer’s seed,
I can be an Infectious deed.
A fungal ball, an abscess deep,
A different, septic vow I keep.
I am the war, the body’s fight,
A purulent and fevered night.
But look again, and look so keen,
A different story can be seen.
If I hold Fat, a golden clue,
A “Hamartoma,” Benign and true.
If I am Calcified and white,
A healed old scar, a granuloma’s light.
So I am many, I am all,
The shadow growing on the wall.
But my first name, the one you see,
Is Mass, because I’m > 3cm.
The final test, the vital task,
I am the question… you must ask.