G                                G7 
It's knowing that your door is always open 
         G               Am 
and your path is free to walk, 
                      Am7 
that makes me tend to leave my sleeping bag 
              D7                  G 
rolled up and stashed behind your couch. 
         G 
And it's knowing I'm not shackled 
       G7 
by forgotten words and bonds 
        G                                     Am 
and the ink stains that have dried if on some line, 
                       Am7 
that keeps you in the backroads 
 
by the rivers of my mem'ry 
      Am             D7          G 
that keeps you ever gentle on my mind. 
 
 
 
It's not clinging to the rocks and ivy 
planted on the 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 
and find that you are moving on the backroads 
by the rivers of my mem'ry 
and for hours you're just gentle on my mind.