I can tilt it to the other side if you'd like.
Bluegrassers wear their cowboy hat with a tilt.
It doesn't work straight.
That one's better?
Yeah.
You're like, yeah.
Alright, we're going to play a song called Turn All My Mind.
You might have heard of it.
It's by John Hartford.
We're going to do it down here with the Chabot River in the background.
Although the river that's mentioned in the song was not the Chabot River.
It's knowing that your door's 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.
It's knowing I'm not shackled by forgotten words and bombs
and the ink stains that are drawn 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 not going into the rocks and I be planted on their columns down that bind.
Or something that somebody said because of the way we fit together walking.
It's just knowing that the world will not be cursing or forgiving
when I walk along some railroad track and find.
You're waving on the back roads by the rivers of my memory
and for hours you're just gentle on my mind.
My friend Kevin Roach gonna play the mandolin now.
Yeah.
All the way fields and the clothes lines and the junkyards and the highways come between us.
Some mother woman crying to her mother cause she turned and I was gone.
I still might run in silence tears of joy might stain my face
and some or some I'll burn it till I'm blind.
But not to where I cannot see you walking on the back roads
by the rivers flowing gentle on my mind.
I do my cup of soup back from a gurgling, crackling cauldron in some tree yard.
My beard ruffling in coal pile and dirty hat and full load across my face.
A true cop dance round a tin can I pretend I hold you to my breast and fight.
You're waving on the back roads by the rivers of my memory
ever smiling and ever gentle on my mind.
Ever gentle on my mind.
Ever gentle on my mind.
Ever gentle on my mind.
