It’s knowing I’m not shackled by forgotten words and bonds and the ink stains that are 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 knowing I’m not shackled by forgotten words and bonds and the ink stains that are 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.