Transcendental to My Mind

After Gentle on My Mind by Glen Campbell


It’s knowin’ that Your door is always open

And Your path is there to walk

That makes me tend to leave my sleeping brain

Rolled up and stashed behind Your couch.

And it’s knowing that I’m shackled by forgotten words and bonds

And my past pains and desires and some lies

That keeps You on the backroads past the rivers of my memory

Waiting to end my judgmental state of mind.


It’s not clinging to the hopes and dreams I planted

When I wanted things that binds me,

Or something that somebody said because they thought

I meant this or that when talking.

It’s just knowing that the world will still be cursing and unforgiving

When I walk along some railroad track and find

That You’re moving on the backroads past the rivers of my memory

To relieve my sentimental state of mind.


Though the wheat fields and the clothes lines

And the junkyards and the highways come between us,

And some self-styled gurus are saying something or other

They want me to meditate upon,

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 walkin’ on the backroads

Past the rivers, beyond my temperamental mind.


I sip my cup of soup, back from the gurgling cracklin’ cauldron

In some train yard,

My body a burning trash pile

And a dirty hat pulled low across my face.

Through cupped hands ’round a tin can

I pray I hold Your wine to my lips and find

That You’re waving from the backroads past the rivers of my memory

Ever smilin’, transcendental to my mind.