Send it up for debate, a leaf for a lack of faith

I like your famous because you always have words to spell

Cutting short with a lurch, like the crest of illness

In a sophic display

Fanning out fleeting breath in the name of your business

In your classical grey

And even though I keep at bay belief in the come-what-may

Your angled lines contort at times and shift with my scenic sway

Cutting short with a lurch, like the crest of illness

In a sophic display

Fanning out fleeting breath in the name of your business

In your classical grey