Contemporary.

Some see a glass full of gold,

Some see a glass full of ether.

Euthanized out the litre,

They eat en mass with the reaper.

Platonic with viscosa,

That nova-pass be the preacher,

Aspirin' the youth to toke up,

amass all the reefer—

Cole said it.

If you can't sift through Holy Apostles

Then don't go acting prophetic.

If you can't drift through Roman Epistles

Then don't go actin' moet-ic.

Ironic, can't apprehend it.

Ironic, can't comprehend it.

Ironic, can't juxtapose it.

But I suppose only rolling over beat clothes and dead sofas

Contuse the slews of condonin' loans to hearts that can't afford ta' (to),

Obtuse abstruse,

When you widen angles it shifts their composure.

Just because angles correspond don't mean they share the same closure.

Adjacency's complacency,

Your higher purpose supposed to,

Swirl vortically in vertices,

Feathers of wisdom not covert.

And to many it sounds pathetic when the message ain't overt.

But too many eulogies came up to inspire a sole verse,

Like palpable euphony, our voice inspires the soul search—

That's composure.