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 are dried upon some line
That keeps you in the back roads
By the rivers of my memory
It 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 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 junk yards 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 'til I'm blind
But not to where I cannot see you
Walking on 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 pretend to hold you to my breast and find
That you're waving from the back roads
By the rivers of my memory
Ever smiling, ever gentle on my mind

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