Stone in the boot,
dawn in the rain
We rise again
Bills on the table,
cracks in the wall Working all week just to not stand tall
Hands in the cold and smoke in the lungs Old folks tired
and the children young We built these roads and we wired these
towns Still somehow sinking while the line goes up Tell me what
progress means to a day like this When a full heart breaks
on a half-paid shift
If the tools we forge can carry the load Why do the
weary still walk alone If all this speed was meant to set
us free Why are we running with no relief Lift us higher,
make a world that holds Bread on the table,
fire from the cold Use what we make so every life can
grow
Not just the few at the top alone We are mortal,
dust beneath the sun Still we can leave this place better than
one If we are fading,
let it mean we gave
More than survival, more than a grave Screens in our pockets,
maps in our hands More ways to speak and less to understand
A cure in the code,
a lie in the feed A hand reaching out,
a market for need
Tech can be mercy,
tech can be chain A hammer for shelter or profit from pain
So who holds the switch and who bears the cost Who counts
what is gained and what has been lost
We do not live forever That is the sharpened truth
Decay is in the timber
And in the bloom of youth
So let our brief days matter
Let every good thing spread
Lift us higher, make a world that holds Bread on the table,
fire from the cold Use what we make so every life can
grow
Not just the few at the top alone
We are mortal, dust beneath the sun Still we can leave this
place better than one If we are fading,
let it mean we gave More than survival,
more than a grave
We rise, we mend
Until the end