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
backroads by the rivers of my mem'ry 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
backroads by the rivers of my mem'ry And for hours
you're just gentle on my mind

Though the wheat fields and the clotheslines 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 backroads By
the rivers flowing gentle on my mind

I dip my cup of of soup back from a gurgling,
crackling cauldron in some train yard My beard a
roughened 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 wavin' from the backroads by the
rivers of my mem'ry Ever smiling, ever gentle on
my mind

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