Sanoja: Flatt and Scruggs. 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 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 memory
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 walkin'
It's just knowing that the world will not be cursin' or forgivin'
When I walk along some railroad track and find
That you're movin' on the back roads
By the rivers of my memory
And for hours you're just gentle on my mind
I dipped my cup of soap back from
A gurglin' cracklin' caltron 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 to hold you to my breast and find
That you're waving from the back roads
By the river of my memories
Ever smiling, ever gentle on my mind
That you're waving from the back roads
By the river of my memories
Ever smiling, ever gentle on my mind
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 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 memory
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 walkin'
It's just knowing that the world will not be cursin' or forgivin'
When I walk along some railroad track and find
That you're movin' on the back roads
By the rivers of my memory
And for hours you're just gentle on my mind
I dipped my cup of soap back from
A gurglin' cracklin' caltron 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 to hold you to my breast and find
That you're waving from the back roads
By the river of my memories
Ever smiling, ever gentle on my mind
That you're waving from the back roads
By the river of my memories
Ever smiling, ever gentle on my mind
Flatt and Scruggs