Tonight the clock ticks at twelve.
The hands of time are slowly proving its purpose.

A mournful state of mediocrity,
And the blissful elegance of laziness.
A lonely dogma of insecurity
Which paved the way to craziness.

Such depression, oh, such depression,

Darkness fall in times for all
Who will help in case we fall?

On and on we see the Light
Yet we ignore its true delight.

Instead, we look towards the dark

On all occasions, Baguio gives her best
Her beauty, climate, and fashion,
All resembling a standing ovation
At times of trial knowing no rest

Love engulfs her true identity,

Love engulfs her true identity
Often a form of allegory
Vested with burdens she must carry
Expressed today with authority