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 have dried upon some line

 

That keeps you in the back roads, by the rivers of my memory

 

That 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 back roads 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 I was gone.

I still might run in silence Tears of joy might stain my face

And the summer sun might burn me till I'm blind But not to where I cannot see

You walking on the back roads By the rivers flowing gentle on my mind

 

I dip my cup of soup back from a gurgling crackling cauldron in some train yard

My beard a rustling coal pile and a dirty hat pulled low across my face.

Through cupped hands 'round a tin can I pretend to hold you to my breast & find

That you're waiting in the back roads by the rivers of my memory

Ever smiling, ever gentle on my mind