Lag Time Covenant

[Verse 1]
The eBay timer's got that pale green hospital glow
on a chipped-up Zenith console from a house on Cardoni Row.
Two-thirteen AM, the kitchen smells like ozone and cold dust,
running three VPNs through a Dayton server I don't trust.
This ain't for the paper, this is architectural pride,
a load-bearing memory they ain't supposed to find inside.
This silicon séance, this ghost in the machine code hum,
is for the nameplate on the back, before the vultures come.

[Pre-Chorus]
First burner phone is live from a gas station in Inkster,
second one pings a cell tower just south of Hamtramck, mister.
The bids are all proxies, a firewall of phantom hands,
a slow-drip auction battle fought across forgotten lands.
The algorithm's patient, it don't know my father's face,
it just sees the incremental five-dollar jump in digital space.
Hold the line 'til sunrise, let the final minute crawl,
I built a fortress in the lag time, just to watch the other castle fall.

[Verse 2]
My cousin texted, "Yo, that hedge fund dude from Troy is back in,
he's got an auto-bidder set, you see the pattern?"
The screen feels cold under my thumb, a different kind of winter.
He's buying up the city's bones to feed a 3D printer,
make replicas of heirlooms, sell 'em back without the soul.
I'm just reclaiming one stray joist to make my own house whole.
The final sixty seconds feel like waiting for a train to pass,
just a reflection of my face in the dark, silent glass.

[Outro]
The cursor hangs on 'Confirm Bid' like a held breath.
Click.