Though the wheet fields and the clothes lines
And the junk yards and the highways come between us
And some other woman cryin' to her mama cause she turned and I was gone
I still might run in silence tears of joy might stain my face
And a summer sun might burn me till I'm blind
But not to where I cannot see you walking on the back roads
By the rivers flowin' gentle on my mind
I dipped my cup of soap back from a gurgling crackling 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 I hold you to my breast and find
That you're waving from the back roads by the rivers of my mem'ry
Ever smiling ever gentle on my mind mhm