I see America from airplane windows Center front row On top of the world Looking out on this quilt of old scraps These green squares laid flat Like flags unfurled They're stitched together by our Fences and tree lines Rivers that unwind And spell Your Name There's a trace of Your face in All that You create
Chorus I can see You Looking back at me Trying to get through To the heart of me And I can see You Running after me Trying to break through What's distracting me And I can see You I can see You
Looking up from my hotel window There in the moon's glow I find Your eyes Watching over me through Clouds of silver Stretched like fingers Over midnight skies And I recognize You Even in disguise
If I can get past All of the deadlines Demons of daily grind Then I can, I can, I can see You
Story Behind The Song: I wrote this after two plane rides. The first was with fellow Rocketown artist Ginny Owens, who, if you don't know, is blind. I was describing the fields below us as looking like an old quilt when I realized just how seldom I'd ever noticed them before. The next week I flew out of Chicago as the sun was coming up and paused for the first time in my hectic week to notice God and wonder if that's why he made long flights and sunrises. I guess if you look at the world long enough it looks back.