Call It Home

John plays the guitar in 1979Writing the song “Call It Home” in 1979 – Photo by George McLachlan

From the album Call It Home (2016)

One of the first songs I ever wrote, “Call It Home” still rings true for me today. In some ways, more so than it did when I wrote it at the ripe-old age of about 20 years. It’s about looking back on the summers spent on Hornby Island, when, along with my brother, cousins, and friends we would have beach fires, play for hours outside, fly kites, sail, fish, swim, and ride bicycles.

I remember riding my bicycle on summer days and singing softly to myself, favourite songs I’d memorized. I hear some of those songs now and they take me back to these golden days when summer stretching out before me seemed endless.

 Call it Home

Call it home, call it heaven, rain begins to fall
I look out on the ocean, I hear the seagull call
Sounds take my mind to the years that have gone by
Songs fill my heart with a warmth inside

Call it home, call it heaven, this feeling leads me there
Rain on the window tells me how much I care
Soon I’ll be home, where once again I’ll live
It’s my heaven on earth and the memories are a gift

Call it home, call it heaven, all the memories let me fly
Through the summer afternoons on the country roads I’d ride
When the evening came I’d be back home again
Not knowing that the days would ever end

CHORUS

So here I sit all alone, music gently plays
A familiar voice takes me back to my younger days
Sometimes I sense a feeling of despair
Knowing that the years have all disappeared

CHORUS

© John McLachlan (SOCAN)

John, George, Robert, Nancy McLachlan at Shingle Spit, Hornby Island, 1962
John, George, Robert, Nancy McLachlan at Shingle Spit, Hornby Island, 1962