Sleeping Bag Rolled Up And Stashed Behind Your Couch

It s knowing that your door is always open and your path is free to walk that makes me tend to leave my sleeping bag rolled up and stashed behind your couch and it s knowing i m not shackled by forgotten words and bonds and the ink stains that have dried upon some line that keeps you in the backroads by the rivers of my memory.

Sleeping bag rolled up and stashed behind your couch.

And it s knowing i m not shackled. It s knowing that your door is always open and your path is free to walk that makes me tend to leave my sleeping bag rolled up and stashed behind your couch and it s knowing i m not shackled by forgotten words and bonds and the ink stains that have dried up on some line that keeps you in the back roads by the rivers of my memory. That keeps you in the back roads. And the ink stains that have dried upon some line.

And your path is free to walk. It s knowing that your door is always open and your path is free to walk that makes me tend to leave my sleeping bag rolled up and stashed behind your couch and it s knowing i m not shackled by forgotten words and bonds and the ink stains that have dried up on some line that keeps you in the back roads by the rivers of my memory. It s knowing that your door is always open and your path is free to walk that makes me tend to leave my sleeping bag rolled up and stashed behind your couch and it s. Lyrics to gentle on my mind by dean martin.

It s knowing that your door is always open and your path is free to walk that makes me tend to leave my sleeping bag rolled up and stashed behind your couch and 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 backroads by the rivers of my memory. It s knowing that your door is always open and your path is free to walk that makes me tend to leave my sleeping bag rolled up and stashed behind your couch and it s knowing i m not shackled by forgotten words and bonds and the ink stains that have dried upon some line that keeps you in the backroads by the rivers of my mem ry. By the rivers of my mem ry. Rolled up and stashed behind your couch.

It s knowing that your door is always open and your path is free to walk that makes me tend to leave my sleeping bag rolled up and stashed behind your couch and 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 backroads by the rivers of my memory. It s knowin that your door is always open and you path is free to walk that makes me tend to keep my sleeping bag rolled up and stashed behind your couch it s knowin i m not shackled by forgotten words and bonds and the heat stains that have dried up on some lovin that keeps you in the back roads by the rivers of my memory it keeps you ever. Verse c it s knowing that your door is always open dm and your path is free to walk that makes me tend to leave my sleeping bag g7 c rolled up and stashed behind your couch and it s knowing i m not shackled by forgotten words and bonds dm and the ink stains that have dried if on some line that keeps you in the back roads g7 c by the rivers of my memory that keeps you ever gentle on my mind. It s knowing that your door is always open.