[Verse 1] Before the scalpel ever sings, the surgeon studies hidden things, a lump's a mystery wrapped in skin, the first cut tells you where to begin. Choose it wrong and the story bends, staging shifts, the whole plan amends, so slow your hand and read the terrain — the tissue diagnosis steers the campaign. [Chorus] FNA for whispers of cells so thin, Core needle keeps the structure locked within, Incisional samples just a wedge, Excisional clears it clean off the ledge, Four biopsy roads, choose with your head — the first incision writes what's ahead. [Verse 2] Out on the limb where the sarcoma hides, cut with the muscle, not against the tide, run the needle straight down the bone's own line — longitudinal, that's the surgeon's sign. Because the tract itself must travel too, it gets removed when the big resection's due. Place it crooked, you've doomed the plan, turned a save-the-limb into lose-the-whole-span. [Chorus] FNA for whispers of cells so thin, Core needle keeps the structure locked within, Incisional samples just a wedge, Excisional clears it clean off the ledge, Four biopsy roads, choose with your head — the first incision writes what's ahead. [Verse 3] Melanoma's a shapeshifter, sly and slow, don't shave it thin, let the whole thing go — excisional biopsy, margins narrow and neat, one to three millimeters, precise and discreet, so the Breslow depth can be measured true, how deep it's burrowed decides what we do. The tissue's friable — crumbles at a touch, handle it gently, it's telling you much. [Bridge] But down below, a different rule applies: never go scrotal on a mass of that size. The lymphatics there run a separate drain — poke through that skin and you've planted the stain, seeding the cells where they shouldn't roam. So lift it out through the inguinal home — radical orchiectomy, clean and whole, protect the pathway, that's the surgical goal. [Chorus] FNA for whispers of cells so thin, Core needle keeps the structure locked within, Incisional samples just a wedge, Excisional clears it clean off the ledge, Four biopsy roads, choose with your head — the first incision writes what's ahead. [Verse 4] When the margins whisper, not yet clear, frozen section lends a watching ear, a rapid read while the patient waits, guides the surgeon through the finer gates. But frozen's quick, not always true, permanent sections still see it through. Patience paired with the keenest eye, makes certain no cancer cells slip by, for every tissue holds a hidden clue, and the right approach will see it through. [Outro] One wrong cut and the whole map tears, so plan the biopsy, mind the layers — cells, frame, wedge, or the entire mass, let the first decision steadily pass through a thinking mind and a patient hand — the tissue diagnosis is where plans stand.
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