There's nowhere quite like this place,
Where you'll never know what weather you'll face,
1 day it'll be 90's and quite clear,
And the next thing you know-1 foot of snow will appear.

With land as far as the eye can see,
With air as dry as could ever be,
With colorful land in every kind of hue,
With an endless sky of crystal blue.

And there also the mountains stood tall,
In front of our church you'll fondly recall,
In open fields-a visage of holy light,
Where you always taught us to do what we know is right.

Even though you must now fly away,
Goodbye is the last thing we will say,
As you will always and will forever be,
Apart of Saint. Isidore's parish and family.