We wander through the path of crowded spaces,

Where the past keeps all its ink stained traces,

And the nightbird weeps in promised pages,

Like a moth in a storm going through its stages,

The sun lifts above the horizon

where a sign of life is found,

that forever holds our sound,

holds our sound.

We are the poets,

We are the poets,

drowning in sunlight

On cloud nine we sketch buildings that never fall,

Words collide like fireworks at the carnival.

We hunt for meaning hidden in desperate cries,

On roads where uneven pavements sing lullabies.

We are the poets,

We are the poets,

drowning in sunlight

When shadows stretch and silence begs for rhyme,

We stitch the breaks with meter, beat, and time.

A chorus is sung through the sunlight's amber haze,

Our thoughts being heard, as we yearn for better days,

(Instrumental—electric piano slides, gentle hand‑claps)

The world spins fast, but we just slow it down,

Turning each of our burdens into a soft, sweet crown.

Each stanza’s a compass pointing to the core,

Finding home in verses we forever store.

The city flows, the wonder shows,

Our poetry’s the wind that always knows.

[Chorus] (double‑time, layered vocals)

We are the poets,

We are the poets,

drowning in sunlight

We are the poets,

We are the poets,

drowning in sunlight