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It's (C)knowing
that your door is always (C7)open,
And
your (C)path is free to (Dmin)walk,
That (Dmin7)makes me tend to (F)leave
my sleeping (Dmin7)bag
Rolled up and (G7)stashed behind your (C)couch.
And it's (C)knowing I'm not shackled by
forgotten words and bonds
And the ink stains that have dried off on some (Dmin)line,
That (Dmin7)keeps you in the (F)backroads
By the (Dmin7)rivers
of my mem'ry
That keeps you ever (G7)gentle on my (C)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.
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