The buggy code of my internal workings
Keeps synced with my bad timing
That's flaw
The dead spot in between our ears keeps spreading

When we stand up, no one comes to ask
"Why is this backwards?"
The alarm doesn't go off
After you're awake
And especially that feeling you get
When you meet someone who looks like you
That one hundred dollar tip
In a town or family
Without enough money to keep itself alive