Deep in the stone, where the echoes hum,
Building up a life where the sunlight don’t come.
No ticking clocks, no morning haze,
Just steady hands in a lantern-lit maze.
Pickaxe tapping, boots on stone,
Dripstone whispers in monotone.
Above, they rush—out there, they race,
But down here, we set our pace.
And at last, the moment’s here again,
Lava flows and ink drips from my pen.
No sky, no rain, no wasted days,
Cave Society—we like it this way.
All alone, yet side by side,
Under the ground, we build with pride.
No sun, no moon, no sense of time,
Just Cave Society in its prime.
This peace, this quiet—hard to find,
We shape the walls, we shape our minds.
I place my torch, then set my sights,
Another hall, another night.
Cobblestone towers and houses of oak,
Moss creeping in where the deep slate broke.
The world outside? Man, let it spin—
Our Cave Society’s safe within.
The drip of water, the ember’s glow,
A town where stalactites grow.
No hurried steps, no need to run,
Here, every block is laid for fun.
No sunrise calls, no nighttime falls,
We listen close—just pickaxe thralls.
A hidden world beneath the stone,
Cave Society—our minds are home.
All alone, yet side by side,
Deep underground, we build with pride.
No sun, no moon, no wasted time,
Cave Society—we let it shine.
Yeah… we let it shine.