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 mem ry.

Sleeping bag rolled up and stashed behind your couch.

That makes me tend to leave my sleeping bag. And it s knowing i m not shackled. It s knowing that your door is always open. And the ink stains that have dried upon some line.

That keeps you in the back roads. Gentle on my mind lyrics. 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 are dried upon some line that keeps you in the backroads by the rivers of my memory.

Rolled up and stashed behind your couch. By the rivers of my mem ry. By forgotten words and bonds. 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.

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 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. 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.