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 are dried upon some line That keeps you in the backroads 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 walking 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 memory And for hours you're just gentle on my mind
I dip my cup of soup back from a gurglin' Cracklin' caldron in some train yard My beard a rustling, cold towel, 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 waiting from the backroads By the rivers of my memories Ever smilin' ever gentle on my mind
Blow on a dandelion, make a wish! After some overnight rain & morning light, yellow flowers are popping up in my backyard area. Little bits of sunshine.
