Of course this type of people always finds each other
They spin together, a few falling off
Like stars on the edge of a galaxy

Of course this type puts on a suit
And marches dutifully into a building
Day after day
Along with the rest of the colony
As if they communicate with each other
That they should all show up together
And work toward a somehow understood goal

As if they were always meant to do this

How is it that even with these complex minds
We can still be swirling whirlpools
Comprised of pixelated ghosts
Acting in unison, balancing the charges