The Son Of Clayton Delaney - Tom T. Hall

On fourth street in louisville in 1978

Stranded in a honky-tonk, somewhere 'tween dates

There was a little band playin' as I sipped my beer

But I never thought that I’d hear what I’d hear

There was a young man a pickin' 'lectric guitar

Smokin' and a snippin', a learnin' how to be a star

He had a big blue bandanna tied around his head

A laid-back bass and a drummer named red

Well, his hair was cut long in the fashion of the time

Sandpaper vocal but he milked every line

His fingers like lightnin' on the guitar that he played

He did «lay down sally"and"hank didn’t do it this way»

Well, I sat there and listened for over an hour

And the closest thing to country was a rockin' «wildwood flower»

And I got that feelin' that I had been there before

But I knew I had never been through that door

Well, the jukebox was turned on and the band took a break

I made my way up front to howdy and shake

I said, «son, I like your music and I kinda like your style.»

But it seemed to me that I had seen that smile

Well, he stood there for a moment, then he laughed and he slapped his knee

He said, «you are one man I’ve wanted to see.»

He said, «i know you, you story-tellin' son of a gun

And you know me I’m Clayton Delaney’s son.»