Gentle on My Mind

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