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It' s knowin' that your door is always open zhī dào nǐ de mén zǒng shì chǎng kāi |
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And your path is free to walk nǐ de lù kě yǐ zì yóu xíng zǒu |
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That makes me tend to leave my sleepin' bag zhè ràng wǒ xiǎng yào xiè xià xíng náng |
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Rolled up and stashed behind your couch bǎ tā guǒ hǎo cáng zài nǐ de shā fā hòu |
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And it' s knowin' I' m not shackled zhī dào wǒ bú huì bèi |
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By forgotten words and bonds nèi xiē céng jīng de huà yǔ hé zhì gù shù fù |
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And the ink stains that have dried upon some line nèi xiē chuáng dān shàng de mò zì |
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That keeps you in the back roads ràng nǐ chéng wéi guò qù de lù |
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By the rivers of my memory zài wǒ de jì yì cháng hé lǐ |
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That keeps you ever gentle on my mind yǒng yuǎn wēn róu |
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It' s not clingin' to the rocks and ivy méi yǒu pá qiáng què |
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Planted on their columns now that bind me rào zài le zhù zhuāng shàng de cháng chūn téng yǐ luò zài wǒ shēn hòu |
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Or something that somebody said because hái yǒu nèi xiē bié rén shuō guò de huà |
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They thought we fit together walkin' tā men yǐ wéi wǒ men shì hé yì qǐ xíng zǒu |
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It' s just knowing that the world zhǐ shì míng bái le zhè gè shì jiè |
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Will not be cursing or forgiving bù cún zài zǔ zhòu hé kuān shù |
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When I walk along some railroad track and find dāng wǒ zǒu zài tiě dào shàng, fā xiàn |
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That you' re movin' on the back roads nǐ yǐ shì guò qù de lù |
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By the rivers of my memory yán zhe wǒ jì yì cháng hé |
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And for hours you' re just gentle on my mind yǒu nà me jǐ gè xiǎo shí, nǐ réng rán wēn róu yú wǒ xīn |
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Though the wheat fields and the clothes lines jǐn guǎn mài tián, liàng yī shéng |
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And the junkyards and the highways come between us fèi pǐn zhàn, gāo sù gōng lù dōu jǐ dào le wǒ men zhōng jiān |
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And some other woman' s cryin' to her mother hái yǒu yī xiē nǚ rén xiàng mǔ qīn de kū sù |
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' cause she turned and I was gone yīn wèi tā men huí tóu le, ér wǒ, yǐ jīng lí kāi |
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I still might run in silence wǒ kě néng hái huì chén mò bēn pǎo |
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Tears of joy might stain my face kuài lè de yǎn lèi wèi miàn páng zhuó sè |
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And the summer sun might burn me till I' m blind xià rì de yáng guāng huì zài wǒ kuài yào shī míng shí rán shāo wǒ |
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But not to where I cannot see dàn shì xiàn zài wǒ kàn bù qīng |
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You walkin' on the back roads nǐ yǐ shì guò qù de lù |
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By the rivers flowin' gentle on my mind què zài wǒ de xīn hé shàng wēn róu liú tǎng |
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I dip my cup of soup back from a gurglin' cracklin' cauldron wǒ cóng pū cī zuò xiǎng de gāo yā guō lǐ shèng le wǎn tāng |
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In some train yard zài tiě dào páng |
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My beard a rustlin' coal pile wǒ de hú zǐ xiàng duī méi zhā |
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And a dirty hat pulled low across my face zàng mào zi gài guò wǒ de liǎn |
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Through cupped hands ' round a tin can shǒu lǐ wò zhe guàn yǐn liào |
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I pretend to hold you to my breast and find wǒ jiǎ zhuāng bǎ nǐ lǒu zài xīn shàng, fā xiàn |
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That you' re waitin' from the back roads nǐ hái zài shēn hòu de lù shàng děng dài |
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By the rivers of my memory zài wǒ jì yì de cháng hé lǐ |
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Ever smilin', ever gentle on my mind yǒng yuǎn wēi xiào, yǒng yuǎn wēn róu |