Home

The sun rises, casting its rays on my last day here;

Packing my bags, I look around not shedding a tear.

I must obey that call to leave;

It's time to go, not time to grieve.

The journey home.

That fresh mountain air,

That ocean wind blowing through my hair;

The call of eagles speaking my name;

Life in Ontario can never be the same.

The plane takes off, carrying me home.

This is a journey I must make alone.

Looking back I see the faces of those that care,

Knowing they wish that I was still there.

Yet I'm on this journey home.

To stand on shores where I belong;

To life my life to the rhythm of a familiar song;

British Columbia is where my heart lives;

It's time to see what she has to give;

I'm on my way home.