Gentle On My Mind
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
The ink stains that have died upon some lines
That keeps you in the back roads by the rivers of my memory
That keeps you ever gentle on my mind
The wheat fields and the clothes lines and the junkyards and the highways come between us
And some other woman crying to her mama 'cause she turned and you were gone
I still run in silence, tears of joy might stain my face
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
You dip your cup of soup back from the gurgling, crackling cauldron in some train yard
Your beard a roughening coal pile and a dirty hat pulled low across your face
I see you in a junkyard through cupped hands 'round a tin can
I pretend I hold you to my breast and find
That you're waving from the back roads by the rivers of my memories
Ever smiling, ever gentle on my mind
The wheat fields and the clothes lines and the junkyards and the highways come between us
And some other woman crying to her mama 'cause she turned and you were gone
