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
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 on the back roads by the rivers of my memory
Keeps you ever gentle on my mind
It's not clinging to the rocks and ivy
Planted in a row that bind me
Or something that somebody said
Because they thought we fit together walking
It's knowing that the world will not be cursing or forgiving
When I walk along some railroad track and find
You're moving on the back roads by the rivers of my memory
For hours you're just gentle on my mind
Though the wheat fields and the clothes lines
And the junkyards and the highways come between us
And some other woman's crying to her mother
She turned and love was gone
I still might run in silence, tears of joy might stain my face
The summer sun might burn me till 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 the gurgling
Crackling cauldron in some train yard
My beard a rustling coal pile
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
You're waving from the back roads by the rivers of my memory
Ever smiling, ever gentle on my mind