It's knowing that your door is always openAnd your path is free to walkThat makes me tend to leave my sleeping bagRolled up and stashed behind your couchAnd it's knowing I'm not shackledBy forgotten words and bondsAnd the ink stains that are dried upon some lineThat keeps you in the backroadsBy the rivers of my memoryThat keeps you ever gentle on my mind It's not clinging to the rocks and ivyPlanted on their columns now that bind meOr something that somebody saidBecause they thought we fit together walkingIt's just knowing that the world will not be cursingOr forgiving when I walk along some railroad track and findThat you're moving on the backroadsBy the rivers of my memoryAnd for hours you're just gentle on my mind Though the wheat fields and the clothes linesAnd the junkyards and the highways come between usAnd some other woman's cryin' to her mother'Cause she turned and I was goneI still might run in silence tears of joy might stain my faceAnd the summer sun might burn me 'til I'm blindBut not to where I cannot see you walkin' on the backroadsBy the rivers flowing gentle on my mind I dip my cup of soup back from a gurglin'Cracklin' caldron in some train yardMy beard a rustling, cold towel, andA dirty hat pulled low across my faceThrough cupped hands 'round the tin canI pretend to hold you to my breast and findThat you're waiting from the backroadsBy the rivers of my memoriesEver smilin' ever gentle on my mind
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