Beside Caboolture River Road,
God gave to man a dream,
A place of worship to be built,
Where to all it would be seen.
The pioneers from the valley’s past,
United in God’s will,
To build a church beside the road,
Where people worship still.
Down through the years came changes,
As the pioneers passed along,
But the old church now aged,
For God still carried on.
Its roof withstood the elements,
Also the walls and timber frame,
The floor where the parishioners knelt,
And the door through which they came.
The stories of this church untold,
The memories contained within,
If only the church could speak to us,
If only it could begin.
Its memories of the organ played,
In flickering light so dim,
Supported by the choir,
As they sing an old time hymn.
And the sermons from the clergy,
Informing all of Christ,
Reaching from the pulpit,
To bring eternal life.
Well! Weary now from weight of years,
It was time to be restored,
The old church was refurbished,
Much like it was before.
That’s why today we gathered,
In the presence of our Lord,
To say “thank you” to our forebears,
For the old church now restored.