In the morning light I hear
the turtles singing in the trees;
they sing of Islematainia,
where pepperonis sway in the breeze.

Oh, we sing thy praise,
and all with just cause,
from the mountains to the North
to the Valley of the Many Ha-Ha's.

Oh, Iselematainia,
forever I will stay,
on thy Sunshine Shores,
until my dying day.