Lyrics
Sarcoidosis “The Flesh-Like Disease “
(Verse 1) I am the mimic, the “flesh-like” disease,
From sarx and -eidos, I do as I please.
I build granulomas, a non-cheesy form,
A quiet, insidious, systemic storm.
I travel the lymphatics, that is my main road,
To plant in your body my mysterious load.
(Chorus) Oh, I am Sarcoid, a riddle of time,
The great “flesh-like” mimic, the ultimate mime.
I follow the lymphatics, you mark me by stage,
As I write my own story on the lung’s upper page.
(Verse 2)
In Phase One,
the lymph nodes are all of the rage.
The Hila are swollen, a bilateral sight,
Sometimes with “Eggshell” calcifications so bright.
In Phase Two,
I advance, I am now in the lung, My lymphatic journey has only begun.
(Chorus)
Oh, I am Sarcoid, a riddle of time,
The great “flesh-like” mimic, the ultimate mime.
I follow the lymphatics, you mark me by stage,
As I write my own story on the lung’s upper page.
(Bridge) I love the Upper Lobes, my favorite place, I follow the bronchovascular trace. I bead all the septa and fissures for you, I outline the pleura, it’s just what I do. Phase Three… the nodes fade, but the lung has the scars. Phase Four… is fibrosis, behind permanent bars.
(Outro)
So look to the lymphatics, the nodes, and the line,
The upper-lobe beading, that “flesh-like” design.
From eggshells to fibrosis,
I am the great mime, I
am Sarcoid… the riddle of time. I am Sarcoid.
Sarcoidosis “The Flesh-Like Disease “
I am the mimic, the “flesh-like” disease, (From sarx and -eidos),
I do as I please. I build granulomas, a non-cheesy form,
A quiet, insidious, systemic storm.
I travel the lymphatics, that is my main road,
To plant in your body my mysterious load.
My journey has phases, you mark them by stage:
In Phase One, the lymph nodes are all of the rage.
The Hila are swollen, a bilateral sight,
Sometimes with “Eggshell” calcifications so bright.
In Phase Two, I advance, I am now in the lung,
My lymphatic journey has only begun.
I follow the bronchovascular bundle’s design,
I trace the pulmonary veins, in a delicate line.
I bead all the septa (intralobular, too),
I outline the fissures and pleura for you.
I love the Upper Lobes, that’s my favorite place,
To build up my nodules and alter the space.
In Phase Three, I am sneaky, the nodes fade away,
But the nodules I planted are still here to stay.
The lung fields are hazy, reticular, scarred,
My flesh-like invaders are standing on guard.
Then Phase Four is the end, the fibrotic last stand,
The distortion of structures, the loss of the land.
The lung is pulled upward, a stiff, brittle shell,
The end of the story my granulomas tell.
So look to the lymphatics, the nodes, and the line,
The upper-lobe beading, that “flesh-like” design.
From eggshells to fibrosis, I am the great mime,
I am Sarcoid… the riddle of time.