In dead of night, where evil dwells
A hero stands, to give them them hell.
The Cankerist.
And evildoers, North to South
Fear the pustules in the mouth.
The Cankerist.
To strike the lowest of the Earth’s scum
With ulcers in the mouth and gums.
The Cankerist.
In dens of vice, our hero waits,
To strike with bumps that ulcerate.
The Cankerist.
A costume red around the sides
A yellow center, bulging wide.
The Cankerist.
And evil plants and evil trees
They also fear the dread disease.
The Cankerist.
With power fierce to agonize
When a person’s lymphocytes (a type of white blood cell) attack the presence of chemical molecules they don’t recognize.
The Cankerist.
Strike like avenging vultures
With recurrent minor aphthous ulcers.
The Cankerist.
The only thing the Cankerist fears
Is waiting ten days till the condition clears.
The Cankerist.