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
back roads by the rivers of my memory, 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 walkin'. 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.

Find more similar lyrics on http://mp3lyrics.com/YeuThough 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 walkin' on the back
roads, by the rivers flowing gentle on my mind.

I dip my cup of soup back from a the gurglin',
crackling cauldron in some train yard; My beard a
roughn'ning 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 back roads by the
rivers