Deep Enough To Dream

A screened-in porch on a lazy summer afternoon becomes the launchpad for something far larger in this Chris Rice song. The narrator kicks off his tennis shoes, slouches in a plastic chair, and drifts from a half-sleep into a vision of heaven — one rendered in colors he's never seen, crowded with a billion guests at a wedding feast, close enough to touch the face of his Maker. What makes the lyric distinctive is how it holds the ordinary and the eternal together: a buzzing fly that keeps hurling itself at the screen becomes a small parable of freedom calling from the other side, and the singer smiles at it before drifting off again. The second half turns sensory — peace pouring over the soul, lambs and lions playing, holiness as the very air, faithful heroes breaking bread and answering every question. The repeated question of whether he ever has to wake up carries both longing and a wink, since the dream itself is the point. It's a song about homesickness for a place you've never been, and about how a quiet afternoon can crack open into something eternal.