Lyrics
“The Micronodule (Where I Lie)”
(Verse 1)
I am the speck, the tiny dot,
The one the scan has barely caught.
Less than 3 millimeters… small,
My name is “Micro,” that
is all.
But do not judge me by my size,
The truth is hidden in where I lie.
(Chorus)
Oh, I’m the Micronodule, $< 3
\text{ mm}$ small,
The tiniest little spot of all!
But don’t you judge me by my size,
The real, true answer’s where I lie!
In the Center? Or the Septum’s line?
That is the clue, the main design!
(Verse 2)
Do you see me in the center?
(The Centrilobular adventure)
I’ve traveled down the Bronchiole’s
path,
A sign of aspiration’s wrath,
Or hypersensitivity’s attack,
I ride the small-airway track.
(Chorus)
Oh, I’m the Micronodule, $< 3
\text{ mm}$ small,
The tiniest little spot of all!
But don’t you judge me by my size,
The real, true answer’s where I lie!
In the Center? Or the Septum’s line?
That is the clue, the main design!
(Verse 3)
Or do I trace the lobule’s wall?
(The Interlobular Septum’s call)
I follow lymphatics, in a line,
A perilymphatic, beaded design.
I am the sign of Sarcoid’s grace,
Or cancer spreading to this place.
(Chorus)
Oh, I’m the Micronodule, $< 3
\text{ mm}$ small,
The tiniest little spot of all!
But don’t you judge me by my size,
The real, true answer’s where I lie!
In the Center? Or the Septum’s line?
That is the clue, the main design!
(Bridge)
Or am I deep within the frame?
(The Intralobular, random game)
A “Miliary” spread, a
bloody tide,
With nowhere left for me to hide.
(Outro)
So I am small, that much is true,
But where I am… that is the clue.
The Septum, Center, or the rest,
I am the Micronodule… the system’s
test!
Poem
“The Micronodule”
I am the speck, the tiny dot,
The one the scan has barely caught.
Less than 3 millimeters… small,
My name is “Micro,” that is all.
But do not judge me by my size,
The truth is hidden in where I lie.
Do you see me in the center?
(The Centrilobular adventure)
I’ve traveled down the Bronchiole’s path,
A sign of aspiration’s wrath,
Or hypersensitivity’s attack,
I ride the small-airway track.
Or do I trace the lobule’s wall?
(The Interlobular Septum’s call)
I follow lymphatics, in a line,
A perilymphatic, beaded design.
I am the sign of Sarcoid’s grace,
Or cancer spreading to this place.
Or am I deep within the frame?
(The Intralobular, random game)
A “miliary” spread, a bloody tide,
With nowhere left for me to hide.
So I am small, that much is true,
But where I am… that is the clue.
The Septum, Center, or the rest,
I am the Micronodule… the system’s test.