Track #9 on Immortality Snake Oil Level 3 Lyrics: Single-cells sifting gifts through primordial slop Misdirection embodies split atoms like laws As a glitch in the sim feeds my mind catchy flaws Drawing thoughts from the void clicking bait on life's jaws Primitive panic seeps through dead veins Making chains out of faulty weak links made to break Suspicious addictions learning new ways To blend with dopamine zombies seeking spare change You're feeding me rot I can spin into gold Watching fools yell at tools they're too stupid to code Personal growth may be out of your league But at least you somehow still find food on the streets You single-celled mutants make the best muses You single-celled mutants make the best muses You single-celled mutants make the best muses No polish no purpose, just blind bruises blooming Hopeful nihilistic cynicism makes ghosts like you Think hypothetical facts formed from lies must be true Pathetic genetics time's gonna eat through Psychological warfare, weak hive minds recruit Father verses daughter, family ties can cut Make your friends pick a side, you know love's out for blood I don't do drugs, I become them I don't do drugs, I become them I don't do drugs, I become them I don't do drugs, I become them You single-celled mutants make the best muses You single-celled mutants make the best muses You single-celled mutants make the best muses No polish no purpose, just blind bruises blooming Surface dwelling servants overstuffing my head Full of words with no purpose they learn from dead threads You single-celled mutants make the best muses Single-celled thoughts thinking single-celled ruins Single-cells sifting gifts through primordial slop Misdirection embodies split atoms like laws As a glitch in the sim feeds my mind catchy flaws Drawing thoughts from the void clicking bait on life's jaws Primitive panic seeps through dead veins Making chains out of faulty weak links made to break Suspicious addictions learning new ways To blend with dopamine zombies seeking spare change You're feeding me rot I can spin into gold Watching fools yell at tools they're too stupid to code Personal growth may be out of your league But at least you somehow still find food on the streets more

This one's based around the idea of “home” as a state of mind rather than a location, the lyrics tap into that instinct to escape everything else and lose yourself in the moment. Meant to capture the feeling of chasing that one environment where nothing else matters except the music, the people, and the energy.more

- Mastered by mixea.commore