Lift your head up.

Let's put a pin in it.
Take it to the steering committee.
Circle back in Q3.
…we shipped it Tuesday.

Forty floors of glass and a queue for the lift,
six sign-offs to make the smallest shift,
a budget cycle, a roadmap, a review,
a meeting to plan what the meeting will do.
They've got the building, the logo, the spend,
and a queue of good ideas
that never reach the end.

But down the street where the rent is cheap,
a crew's been awake while the tower's asleep —

Lift your head up, look what we've grown,
shared hearts, like minds, none of us alone —
BUILD IT! THEY WILL COME!
Lift your head up — the future's ours to own.
the future's ours to own.

No floor of managers taking a cut,
no board in a boardroom deciding what's what —
we notice it first and we move in a day,
while they're still deciding who gets to say.
The admin's handled while we sleep,
their overhead's our margin,
and our margin's ours to keep.
One crew seeds another, then ten, then a street,
till the tower looks down and there's green at its feet.

Lift your head up, look what we've grown,
shared hearts, like minds, none of us alone —
BUILD IT! THEY WILL COME!
Lift your head up — the future's ours to own.

We never threw a stone at the tower's door,
we built what it wouldn't, and they came for more.
One by one they walk across the square,
lanyard in the bin —
'cause the future's over there.
We don't take the tower down…
we build around it,
till the tower's the one alone.

Lift your head up, head up, look what we've grown, we've grown,
shared hearts, like minds, none of us alone, not alone,
BUILD IT! THEY WILL COME!
Lift your head up — the future's ours to own,
the future's ours to own.

So look up from the screen…
there's a light on down the street,
and a seat with your name.
Put your hand up.
We see you.