In fields of toil, where hands do weave,
A symphony of labor, dawn to eve.
The sweat that glistens, the hearts that strive,
In the dance of work, we come alive.

With every sunrise, the promise grows,
Through endless tasks and steady flows.
The dreams we chase, the goals we seek,
In the heart of work, we’re never weak.

Each moment spent, each effort made,
Carves a path, a future laid.
In the grind and grit, we find our grace,
In the realm of work, we find our place.

And as the dusk brings close of day,
We rest our heads, and softly say,
In the harmony of labor’s song,
We found our strength, where we belong.