In the valley, tucked in a shire’s old garage,
Where sweat meets grit, and dreams seem large.
Ideas, like seeds, take root and spread,
From near to far, in hearts and heads.
Passion is a currency bartered in terms.
A market of dreamers of unmasked etiquette.
Discontent fuels a burning quest,
the garage’s silence, dreams to test.
Under a glow of LED light,
long hours pass, blurring day into night.
A tap, dawn’s delight, a gentle knock from twilight.
Stirring echoes of the valley ticking clock.
Facts may swirl in a doubter’s haze,
let not another's confidence be your delay.
A relentless march will last for days,
the tireless road, a dreamer’s way.
Steady now, steady, be heady, be ready.
The journey’s end is elusive, the path unsteady.
Release may elude those who choose to stay,
Yet the dreamers know there’s no other way.
Haunting dreams, uncertain exits,
a spectral promise of a seekers gambit.
Yet undying dreams persist the chase
in the hearts of those who run the race.
In the shire’s garage, under the valley’s crest,
We toil, we dream, in faith, our place.
An uncertain exit, a persistence unworn.
In the dreamer’s heart, legends are born.
