(John Hartford)
Well, it's knowing that your door is always open
And your path is free to walk
That makes me tend to keep my sleeping bag rolled up
And stashed behind your couch.
And it's knowing I'm not shacked 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 mem'ry
That keeps you ever gentle on my mind.
It's not clinging to the rocks
And I'd be planted on their columns now that binds me
Or something that somebody said
Because they thought we fit together walking.
It's just knowin' that the world will not be cursin' or forgiving
When I walk along some railroad track and find
That you're movin' on the back roads by the rivers of my mem'ry
And for hours you're just gentle on my mind.
Though the wheet fields and the clothes lines
And the junk yards and the highways come between us
And some other woman cryin' to her mama
'Cause she turned and I was gone.
I still might run in silence tears of joy might stain my face
And a summer sun might burn me till I'm blind
But not to where I cannot see you walking on the back roads
By the rivers flowin' gentle on my mind.
I dipped my cup of soap back
From a gurgling crackling caldron in some train yard
My beard, a roughen 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 back roads by the rivers of my mem'ry
Ever smiling, ever gentle on my mind. mhm...
Gentle on my mind Video (MV)
Faron Young - Gentle on my mind Lyrics
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(John Hartford)
Well, it's knowing that your door is always open
And your path is free to walk
That makes me tend to keep my sleeping bag rolled up
And stashed behind your couch.
And it's knowing I'm not shacked 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 mem'ry
That keeps you ever gentle on my mind.
It's not clinging to the rocks
And I'd be planted on their columns now that binds me
Or something that somebody said
Because they thought we fit together walking.
It's just knowin' that the world will not be cursin' or forgiving
When I walk along some railroad track and find
That you're movin' on the back roads by the rivers of my mem'ry
And for hours you're just gentle on my mind.
Though the wheet fields and the clothes lines
And the junk yards and the highways come between us
And some other woman cryin' to her mama
'Cause she turned and I was gone.
I still might run in silence tears of joy might stain my face
And a summer sun might burn me till I'm blind
But not to where I cannot see you walking on the back roads
By the rivers flowin' gentle on my mind.
I dipped my cup of soap back
From a gurgling crackling caldron in some train yard
My beard, a roughen 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 back roads by the rivers of my mem'ry
Ever smiling, ever gentle on my mind. mhm...
Well, it's knowing that your door is always open
And your path is free to walk
That makes me tend to keep my sleeping bag rolled up
And stashed behind your couch.
And it's knowing I'm not shacked 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 mem'ry
That keeps you ever gentle on my mind.
It's not clinging to the rocks
And I'd be planted on their columns now that binds me
Or something that somebody said
Because they thought we fit together walking.
It's just knowin' that the world will not be cursin' or forgiving
When I walk along some railroad track and find
That you're movin' on the back roads by the rivers of my mem'ry
And for hours you're just gentle on my mind.
Though the wheet fields and the clothes lines
And the junk yards and the highways come between us
And some other woman cryin' to her mama
'Cause she turned and I was gone.
I still might run in silence tears of joy might stain my face
And a summer sun might burn me till I'm blind
But not to where I cannot see you walking on the back roads
By the rivers flowin' gentle on my mind.
I dipped my cup of soap back
From a gurgling crackling caldron in some train yard
My beard, a roughen 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 back roads by the rivers of my mem'ry
Ever smiling, ever gentle on my mind. mhm...