The Sacred Fry

Come, ye unwashed, and hear the tale,
Of Holy Crisp, that shall prevail!
From Great Fryer's light, a golden gleam,
Born of sacred oil, a holy dream.
The crispy crunch, a blessed sound,
On hallowed ground, true taste is found.
From blandness deep, to radiant light,
The Holy Crisp, our guiding might!

Oh, Holy Crisp, our joyful song,
To Thee alone, our hearts belong!
From every fryer, far and near,
Thy Golden Hue, dispelling fear.
Let voices rise, a mighty roar,
The Perfect Fry, forevermore!

In early days, when Crispers brave,
From Age of Softness sought to save.
They preached immersion, deep and true,
To turn the bland, to golden hue.
But then arose, a subtle strife,
A test of faith, a part of life.
The Ratioists, with measure keen,
Sought precise crisp, a holy scene.

But then the SCT, with doctrines new,
Declared their crisp, for just a few.
"A chosen oil, a sacred heat,"
They whispered low, with tongues so sweet.
They closed their doors, to common man,
Confining crisp, to their own plan.
While Universal Fryers, wide and free,
Proclaimed crispness, for all to see.

The conflict raged, with fervent plea,
For what is crisp, and meant to be?
The SCT, held fast their claim,
While Universal Fryers called Thy name.
"For all who seek, the blessed oil,"
They cried aloud, on hallowed soil.
"The Great Fryer's grace, for every soul,
To make the broken, crisp and whole!"

Though trials come, and battles cease,
The Holy Crisp brings perfect peace.
For in the end, the truth made plain,
The Great Fryer's love, absolves all pain.
The Perfect Fry, for all shall be,
In golden crisp, eternity!
So raise your voices, loud and long,
The Holy Crisp, where we belong!