The Year That Clayton Delaney Died Boy Golden

I remember the year that Clayton Delaney died
Save for the last two weeks, he suffered and cried
Made a big impression on me
I was just a barefoot kid
They say he found religion at the end and I’m glad that he did

Clayton was the best guitar picker in our town
I thought that he was a hero, followed him around
I often wondered why Clayton, who seemed so good to me
Never took his guitar and played it in Tennessee

Yeah, my Daddy said he drank a lot, I never understand
Well I knew he used to pick up in Ohio with a five-piece band

Clayton used to tell me “son, best put that guitar away
Ain’t no money in it, leads you to an early grave”

I guess if I’ll admit it, Clayton taught me how to drink booze
I can see him half starved picking out the lovesick blues

Clayton died I made him a promise, I would go on somehow
I’d give a hundred bucks if he could see me now

I remember the year that Clayton Delaney died
Well nobody ever knew it, I went out in the woods and I cried
And I know there’s lots of good preachers, who know a lot more than I do
But I wonder if the good lord likes a little pickin’ too (I bet he does)