It's knowin' that your door is always open
And your path is free to walk
That makes me tend to leave my sleepin' bag
Rolled up and stashed behind your couch

And it's knowin' I'm not shackled
By forgotten words and bonds
And the ink stains that are dried upon some line
That keeps you in the backroads
By the rivers of my memory
It keeps you ever gentle on my mind

It's not clingin' 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 movin' on the backroads
By the rivers of my memory
And for hours you're just gentle on my mind

Though the wheat fields and the clotheslines
And the junkyards and the highways come between us
And some other woman's cryin' 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 walkin' on the backroads
By the rivers flowing gentle on my mind

I dip my cup of soup back from a gurglin'
Cracklin' caldron in some train yard
My beard a rough'nin', coal pile
And a dirty hat pulled low across my face

Through cupped hands 'round the tin can
I pretend to hold you to my breast and find
That you're waitin' from the backroads
By the rivers of my memories
Ever smilin' ever gentle on my mind