Gentle on My Mind

It's knowing that the door is always open and that I'm free to walk
That makes me tend to leave my sleeping bag rolled up and stashed behind your couch

It's knowing I'm not shackled by forgotten words and bonds
And ink stains that have dried up on some line
That keeps you in the back roads by the rivers of my memory
That keeps you ever gentle on my mind

Not clinging to the rocks and ivy planted on their column now that binds me
Or something that somebody said because they thought we fit together walking

It's knowing that the world would not be cursing or forgiving
When I walk along that railroad track and find
That you're moving through the back roads by the rivers of my memory
And for hours you're just gentle on my mind

And the wheat fields and the coastlines and the junkyards and the highways come between us
Some other woman crying to her mother 'cause she turned and I was gone

Well, I still 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 through 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 roughening coal pile and a dirty hat pulled low across my face

Through cupped hands 'round a tin can I draw you gently to my breast and find
That you're walking through the back roads by the rivers of my memory
Ever smiling, ever gentle on my mind

On my mind