“Fruitbloom (The Cosmic Orchard)”

[Intro – whispered echo] Stars ain’t cold... they’re seeds. Planets ain’t rocks... they’re fruit. Earth ripened on the vine... and now we juice. [Verse 1] Grew from plasma roots in a galactic trunk, Hummin’ in the orchard, no need for punk. Stars drop seeds in the spiral’s womb, And Earth got ripe in a frequency bloom. Photosynthesis ain’t the only light, We were forged in storms and aurora nights. We didn’t evolve, we were stirred and born, By cosmic bees in electric swarm. [Chorus] Let there be juice. Let there be rhythm in the root. Galactic fruit hangin’ loose. One bite, one loop, one truth. [Verse 2] Sacred trees hold Hesperide codes, Golden apples and resonance modes. Temples tuned to planetary breath, Plasma priests beatin’ life from death. But now we mine the gods for parts, Sell the stones, forget the art. Are we compost, or are we crystal? A humming orb or a smokin’ pistol? [Bridge – choir rise + whispered voice] Yggdrasil, Eden, Amrita bloom, We orbit in a garden, not a tomb. Humans ain’t the endgame… just the flavor. So what myth will your fruit savor? [Outro – spoken] The myth loops. The orchard hums. The plasma remembers. Let. There. Be. Juice.