[Verse 1]
Doctor draws a vial, reads the story in the plasma,
Not a crystal ball, just chemistry with charisma.
CEA rides shotgun after colon surgery's done,
Watching for a shadow, not the signal to run.
It's no good for screening, don't go fishing with this hook,
Save it for the chart you check after the first look,
A ruler for the healing, not the finder of the crook.
[Chorus]
C-E-A for the colon crew,
Nineteen-nine for the pancreas too,
AFP when the liver's gone askew,
Or a germ cell tumor cooking something new.
Hook, hook, little biochemical clue,
Track the fight, don't start the battle with a residue.
[Verse 2]
CA nineteen-nine runs with the bile and the gland,
Pancreatic whispers, biliary contraband.
But Lewis-negative folks, their body won't comply,
No antigen, no marker, so the number stays shy.
AFP climbs high when the liver turns to stone,
Hepatocellular trouble sitting on the throne,
Or a nonseminoma hiding in the testicle zone.
[Verse 3]
Beta-hCG, the pregnancy impostor,
Shows up in germ cells, shows up when chorio's got her.
Choriocarcinoma singing in the placental choir,
CA one-twenty-five's the ovary's informer,
Rising with a cyst, or a tumor climbing higher,
A pelvic alarm bell nobody can retire.
[Chorus]
C-E-A for the colon crew,
Nineteen-nine for the pancreas too,
AFP when the liver's gone askew,
Or a germ cell tumor cooking something new.
Hook, hook, little biochemical clue,
Track the fight, don't start the battle with a residue.
[Bridge]
Calcitonin calling from the medullary cell,
Parafollicular whisper ringing like a bell.
Cut the gland away, then thyroglobulin's the guide,
Watching differentiated cancer, keeping track of tide.
If the number creeps back up after the surgeon's through,
Something's regrowing where the thyroid used to brew.
[Verse 4]
Chromogranin A and the urine five-H-I-A-A,
Neuroendocrine tumors flushing serotonin away,
Flushed cheeks and wheezing tell the carcinoid tale,
Little rogue cells sending chemical mail.
PSA's the lone wolf screening hopeful men by post,
But even prostate's champion stirs a heated roast,
Overdiagnosis, biopsy up for debate,
One test, a thousand opinions on a patient's fate.
[Verse 5]
See, markers aren't detectives catching cancer on the sly,
They're better as the nurses watching numbers rise and die.
Draw it, treat it, draw it once again,
A falling curve means progress, a climbing one means when.
Recurrence hides in shadows till a value creeps too high,
That's the job these molecules were never meant to shy.
[Chorus]
C-E-A for the colon crew,
Nineteen-nine for the pancreas too,
AFP when the liver's gone askew,
Or a germ cell tumor cooking something new.
Hook, hook, little biochemical clue,
Track the fight, don't start the battle with a residue.