Let's take The Elevator Rotavéle
Up to the umpteenth floor
Elevate ourselves to the highest of high
Where the sky is a dent in the floor
And when God steps in
We'll be sure to ask him
“While you're at it, could you please push Number Four”
And while we ride
We'll ask
and ask
and ask
but leave margins for responding

So smart we'll be!
such knowledge we'll have seen
by the time we have reached Floor Four
And when God gets off
We'll talk about our talk
And laugh because what else is there to do?
How ungodly!
… gossiping about God
but elevators are always
secret-safe
Once we've talked our talk
and run out of places to stop
We'll take the elevator down
And oxymoronically come back home