From the window of this small plane
I can see a herd of caribou
Migrating towards the sun
I'm coming home to you
He let them chase him for nearly twenty years
I let them chase me for all of twenty years
From the window of this small plane
I can see the town never grew
And as the plane touches down
I'm getting closer to you
He's wondering if it was her fault or his
I'm wondering if it was your fault or mine
Find me a turtle shell
Fill it with your medicine
I want to hear the stories
In my language one more time
From the window of this small plane
I see snaking river skins
And lakes full of dead hikers
Drowning cowboys and Indians
That's where I want to spend my final days
That's where I want to spend my final days
From the window of this small plane
I wonder do you look the same
Are your arms still beautiful and long
Will they keep me safe and warm
As you had done so long ago
Find me a turtle shell
Fill it with your medicine
I want to hear the stories
In my language one more time