From the highest spire, where the owls conspire,
We play hide and seek with fortune and fame.
Books are our bricks, glasses our armor,
Lost in a complex maze of profound drama.

Oh, the Ivory Tower, where the owls know my name,
Where coffee's weak, and debates catch flame.
Amidst the stacks, where wild thoughts take aim,
Seeking the truth, in our noble game.

Nights with paper and pen, a scholar's plight,
Citing the cited, till the morning light.
Footnotes lead the way, a breadcrumb fest,
Finding life's answers? A noble quest, I jest.

Oh, the Ivory Tower, where the owls know my name,
Where coffee's weak, and debates catch flame.
Amidst the stacks, where wild thoughts take aim,
Seeking the truth, in our noble game.

From atop these walls, with mortar dry,
We chuckle and shout, "At least we try!"
In our endless quest to sound profound,
In laughter alone, our truths are found.

In silent halls, under watchful eyes,
The ink flows on as the old clock sighs.
Questions like arrows, answers like shields,
In this scholarly battlefield, wisdom never yields.

Oh, the Ivory Tower, where the owls know my name,
Where coffee's weak, and debates catch flame.
Amidst the stacks, where wild thoughts take aim,
Seeking the truth, in our noble game.

So here we stand, with minds alight,
The owls keep watch through the darkest night.
With every dawn, our spirits renew,
In the Ivory Tower, where every hidden truth flew.