In the dawn of early light, we rise,
With dreams woven, like a tapestry bright,
Hands to the plow, minds set to the skies,
In the dance of work, we find our might.

Through hours that stretch like a river wide,
We toil and sweat, with hope as our guide,
Crafting futures from the clay of today,
In whispers of effort, we carve our way.

The sun dips low, but still we strive,
In the heart of labor, we feel alive,
Each task a note in the symphony grand,
Building worlds with effort, by our hand.

In the quiet of night, we rest and dream,
Of fields yet sown, and stars that gleam,
Work, our journey, our path, our creed,
In every endeavor, we plant the seed.