West
A little Southern town
Could never astone.
Big Northern city,
So filled with activity.
A Northern dairy land
Where it's easy to be a fan.
My desire to serve never ceased.
But no one called from the East.
So, back to the populous place.
Back to the region of slow pace.
Four years of sweat and tears.
Then, sweet melodies to my ears.
From 2000 miles, the WEST calls.
There, the kids grew stable and tall.
It seemed the WEST was where we belonged;
The place where we grew confident and strong.
And for 43 years, we called WEST our home.
Home, sweet home. We had ceased to roam.
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