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 binds 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 are
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 clothes lines
And the junkyards
and the highways
come between us
And some other
woman 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 backroads
By the rivers
flowing gentle
on my mind
I dip
my cup of soup
back from
the gurgling
Crackling caldron
in some train yard
My beard
a roughning
coal pile and
A dirty hat
pulled low
across my face
Through cupped hands
'round a tin can
I pretend
I hold you
to my breast
and find
That you're waving
from the backroads
By the rivers of
my mem'ry
Ever smiling
ever gentle
on my mind