It's
knowin' that your door is always open
And
your path is free to walk
That
makes me tend to leave my sleepin' bag
Rolled
up and stashed behind your couch.
And
it's knowin' 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 clingin' to the rocks and ivy
Planted
on their columns now that bind me
Or
something that somebody said because
They
thought we fit together walkin'.
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 movin' 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 cryin' 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
walkin' on the back roads
By
the rivers flowin' gentle on my mind.
I
dip my cup of soup back from a gurglin' cracklin' cauldron
In
some train yard
My
beard a rustlin' 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 and find
That
you're waitin' from the back roads
By
the rivers of my memory
Ever
smilin', ever gentle on my mind.
Music is a
thread that binds our souls together. Some people have pretty thin threads.
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