Gentle On My Mind

It's knowing that your door is always open<br> And your path is free to walk<br> That makes me tend to leave my sleeping bag<br> Rolled up and stashed behind your couch<br> And it's knowing I'm not shackled<br> By forgotten words and bonds<br> And the ink stains that are dried upon some line<br> That keeps you in the backroads<br> By the rivers of my memory<br> That keeps you ever gentle on my mind<br><br> It's not clinging to the rocks and ivy<br> Planted on their columns now that bind me<br> Or something that somebody said<br> Because they thought we fit together walking<br> It's just knowing that the world will not be cursing<br> Or forgiving when I walk along some railroad track and find<br> That you're moving on the backroads<br> By the rivers of my memory<br> And for hours you're just gentle on my mind<br><br> Though the wheat fields and the clothes lines<br> And the junkyards and the highways come between us<br> And some other woman's crying to her mother<br> Cause she turned and I was gone<br> I still might run in silence tears of joy might stain my face<br> And the summer sun might burn me til I'm blind<br> But not to where I cannot see you walking on the backroads<br> By the rivers flowing gentle on my mind<br><br> I dip my cup of soup back from a gurglin<br> Crackling caldron in some train yard<br> My beard a rustling, cold towel, and<br> A dirty hat pulled low across my gaze<br><br> Through cupped hands round the tin can<br> I pretend to hold you to my breast and find<br> That you're waiting from the backroads<br> By the rivers of my memories<br> Ever smiling ever gentle on my mind