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 
   And the ink stains that have dried up on 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 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 by the rivers of my memory 
And for hours you're just gentle on my mind 
  
Well I dip my cup of soup back from the gurgling crackling caldron in some train yard 
My beard a roughening coal pile and a dirty hat pulled low across my face 
  
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 river of my memory 
Ever smiling ever gentle on my mind