Gentle on My Mind
John Hartford
Index Contents
Previous, Next

   C-Cmaj7-Am-C-C-Cmaj7-Am-C-Dm-Dm(maj)7-Dm7-Dm6-Dm-Dm(maj)7-Dm7-G- C-Cmaj7-Am-C
   C                           Cmaj7/b        Am
1. It’s just knowin’ that your door is always open and 
            C/g             Dm-D(maj)7–Dm7–Dm6
       your path is free to walk.
   Dm                    Dm(maj)7          Dm7
   That makes me tend to leave my sleepin’ bag rolled up
        G                    C–Cma7/b-Am
       stashed behind your couch.
   C                        Cmaj7/b      Am
   And it’s knowin’ I’m not shackled by forgotten words
            C/g 
       and bonds
    C                            Cmaj7          
   And the ink stains that have dried upon some 
       Dm-D(maj)7–Dm7–Dm6                                          
       line.
   Dm                    Dm(maj)7           Dm7
   That keeps you in the back roads by the rivers of my 
       Dm6
       memory
   Dm                  G           C–Cma7/b-Am
   And keeps you ever gentle on my mind.

2. It’s not clingin’ to the rocks and ivy planted on their 
       columns now that binds me.
   Or something that somebody said because they thought
       we’d fit together walkin’
   It’s just knowin’ that the world will not be cursin’ and
       forgivin’
   As I walk along some railroad track and find.
   That you’re movin’ on the back roads by the rivers of
       my memory
   Ever smilin’ ever gentle on my mind.

3. Though the wheat fields and the cloths lines and junk
       yards and the highways come between us
   And some other woman’s 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.

4. I dip my cup of soup back from some gruglin’ cracklin’
       cauldron in some train yard.
   My beard, a roughin’ coal pile, and a dirty hat pulled
       low across my face.
   Through cupped hand, round a tin can, I pretend to hold
       you to my breast and find
   That you’re waitin’ from the back roads, by the rivers
       of my memory
   Ever smilin’, ever gentle on my mind.