We don't long for
The ghosts of the past
We look towards
The aliens of the future
Eccentric in our plight
Yet pragmatic with our fight
It'll all go awry
Fraught with quibbles
And digression
So we need to stay
Eclectic
When our immersion
Into delectable debates
May leave us convalescent
The timbre of the larynx
Tantalises our being
With cumulative frequencies
Of consummate vigour
As we straddle the bustle
Ravaging through
These implicit corroborations
