John Hartford Follow

Oh, Benny Mart, now

It's knowin' that your door is always open
And your path is free to walk
That makes me tend to leave, my sleepin' bag
Rolled up and stashed behind your couch

And it's knowin' I'm not shackled by forgotten words and bonds
And the ink stains that have dried upon some lines
That keeps you in the back roads, by the rivers of my memory
And keeps you ever gentle on my mind

Oh, Sam, Sammy Bush

It's not clingin' to the rocks and ivy
Planted on their columns now that binds me
Or somethin' that somebody said
Because they thought we fit together walkin'

It's just knowin' that the world will not be cursin' or forgivin'
When I walk along some railroad track and find
That you're wavin' from the back roads, by the rivers of my memory
For hours you're just gentle on my mind

Although the wheat fields and the curled twines
And the junkyards and the highways come between us
And some other woman cryin' to her mother
'Cause she turned and I was gone

I still might run in silence, tears of joy might stain my face
And the summer sun might burn me till I'm blind
But not to where I cannot see you walkin' on the back roads
By the rivers flowin' gentle on my mind

Take Robin and Buddy Ellins

I dip my cup of soup back from the gurglin'
Cracklin' cauldron in some train yard
My beard a roughenin' 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 wavin' from the back roads, by the rivers of my memory
Ever smilin', ever gentle on my mind