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 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

It's not clingin' to the

Rocks and ivy planted

on their columns

now that binds me

Or somethin'

that somebody said

because they thought

we fit together walkin'

It's just knowin' that

the world will not

be cursin' or forgivin'

when I walk along some

railroad track and find

Movin' on the backroads

by the rivers of my memory

and for hours you're just

gentle on my mind

Well, I dip my cup of soup

back from the gurglin'

cracklin' caldron

in some train yard

My beard a

roughenin' coal pile

and a dirty hat pulled

low across my face

Cupped hands

'round a tin can

I pretend I'll hold you

to my breast and find

That you're wavin'

from the back roads

by the river of my memory

ever smilin'

ever gentle on my mind

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