Gentle On My Mind

Tom: C
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It's knowing that your door is always 
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open and your path is free to walk
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that makes me tend to leave my sleeping 
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bag rolled up and stashed behind your couch
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And it's knowing I'm not shackled by forgotten words and 
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bonds and the ink stains that have dried upon some line
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That keeps you in the backroads by the 
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rivers of my mem'ry, that keeps you ever 
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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 think 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 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 be 'till I'm blind,
But not to where I cannot see you
Walkin' on the backroads, by the rivers flowing 
Gentle on my mind

I dip my cup of soup back from the
Gurglin', cracklin' cauldron in some trainyard;
My beard a roughning coal pile and a 
Dirty had 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 memory, ever smilin' ever
Gentle on my mind.