Somebody's Watchin'

Chris Rice writes for the insomniac here — the one lying awake while the day's events keep burning in the mind, with no one in the dark to share the ache. The song doesn't rush to fix that loneliness; it sits in it, then quietly reframes it. A childhood memory surfaces, of a God who never sleeps, and with it the anxious question: is He still looking down on me? The chorus answers with a repeated assurance that someone is watching the lonely heart, has not missed a single tear, and that even the dark cannot hide you. The bridge widens the claim: through the darkest night His love can reach into the secret place of your heart. What makes the song work is its restraint — no dramatic resolution, just a steady, almost lullaby-like insistence that being unseen by people is not the same as being unseen by God. It's a song for 3 a.m., for the person who feels invisible, offering not a solution to the sleeplessness but a presence within it.