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Almost Persuaded – David Houston

David Houston age, hometown, biography | Last.fm

About the Song

David Houston’s soulful rendition of “Almost Persuaded” is a timeless country ballad that continues to resonate with listeners of all ages. Released in 1966, this heartfelt song has become a staple in the country music canon, showcasing Houston’s powerful vocals and the enduring appeal of classic country storytelling.

The song’s narrative revolves around a man who is torn between his love for a married woman and his desire to do the right thing. Houston’s rich, emotive voice perfectly captures the character’s internal conflict, making listeners feel as though they are right there with him, experiencing the pain and longing he is enduring. The lyrics, penned by Billy Sherrill and Homer Banks, are both poignant and relatable, exploring themes of love, loss, and the complexities of human relationships.

One of the most striking aspects of “Almost Persuaded” is its ability to evoke a wide range of emotions. From the opening notes, listeners are drawn into the song’s melancholic atmosphere. Houston’s expressive vocals, combined with the lush instrumentation, create a sense of longing and regret that is both haunting and beautiful. The song’s chorus, with its repeated refrain of “Almost persuaded, almost made up my mind,” is particularly memorable, emphasizing the character’s indecision and the internal struggle he is facing.

“Almost Persuaded” is a prime example of the classic country sound that dominated the charts in the 1960s. The song’s production is polished and sophisticated, featuring a backing band that provides a rich, full sound. The pedal steel guitar, in particular, plays a prominent role, adding a touch of twang and nostalgia to the arrangement.

Over the years, “Almost Persuaded” has been covered by numerous artists, but it is Houston’s original version that is considered to be the definitive recording. The song’s enduring popularity is a testament to its timeless appeal and the power of great songwriting. Whether you are a longtime country music fan or simply appreciate well-crafted music, “Almost Persuaded” is a song that is sure to leave a lasting impression.David Houston - Almost Persuaded (1966) & Answer Song.

Video 

Lyrics: Almost Persuaded

Now this ain’t no cheatin’ song
‘Cause I didn’t do nothin’Last night all alone in a honky tonk barroom
I met a girl with a drink of Beam in her hand
She had ruby red lips, wooh, she had coal black, black hair
And eyes that would tempt any old honky tonk man

Then she came and sat down at my table
And she placed her soft hands in mine, mercy
And I found myself wanting to kiss her
And temptation was flowing just like cheap honky tonk wine

I was almost persuaded
To let me lose my pride, yeah lose it
I was almost persuaded
To push my conscience aside, get outta here conscience

Wooh
Come here, honey

Then we danced and she whispered, “I need you,
Take me away from here and be my big ol’ southern man.”
Then I looked in her eyes and I, I saw that look and I saw somethin’ else
The reflection of my wedding band, mercy

I was almost persuaded
To strip myself of my pride, that strange woman leading me on
Almost persuaded
But your sweet love made me stop and go home

That was really hard to do

 

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HIS FATHER TOLD HIM TO PUT DOWN THE GUITAR. NASHVILLE FORGOT HIM. TWICE. HE CAME BACK IN A WHEELCHAIR AND STILL WOULDN’T SHUT UP. Vern Gosdin grew up hauling rocks and chopping cotton in Woodland, Alabama. His father tried music once, failed, and forbade his son from ever touching a guitar. Vern left home and never looked back — never saw his father again. He moved to California. Then Chicago. Then Nashville. Two record labels went bankrupt under him. Nobody called. Nobody came looking. So he quit, moved to Georgia, and sold glass for a living. But he kept a guitar in his truck. In the late ’70s, he crawled back to Nashville — older, broker, and angrier than every pretty boy on country radio. He didn’t sound trendy. He sounded like a man who’d been through hell and could prove it. Then he wrote “Chiseled in Stone” and beat every superstar in town for CMA Song of the Year. Tammy Wynette called him “the only singer who can hold a candle to George Jones.” In 1998, a stroke stole his voice. He kept writing from a wheelchair. 101 songs. Still fighting. They called him “The Voice.” Nashville called him too late. Does knowing how many times Vern Gosdin had to start over make “Chiseled in Stone” hit even harder now?

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Country Oldies Musics

HIS FATHER TOLD HIM TO PUT DOWN THE GUITAR. NASHVILLE FORGOT HIM. TWICE. HE CAME BACK IN A WHEELCHAIR AND STILL WOULDN’T SHUT UP. Vern Gosdin grew up hauling rocks and chopping cotton in Woodland, Alabama. His father tried music once, failed, and forbade his son from ever touching a guitar. Vern left home and never looked back — never saw his father again. He moved to California. Then Chicago. Then Nashville. Two record labels went bankrupt under him. Nobody called. Nobody came looking. So he quit, moved to Georgia, and sold glass for a living. But he kept a guitar in his truck. In the late ’70s, he crawled back to Nashville — older, broker, and angrier than every pretty boy on country radio. He didn’t sound trendy. He sounded like a man who’d been through hell and could prove it. Then he wrote “Chiseled in Stone” and beat every superstar in town for CMA Song of the Year. Tammy Wynette called him “the only singer who can hold a candle to George Jones.” In 1998, a stroke stole his voice. He kept writing from a wheelchair. 101 songs. Still fighting. They called him “The Voice.” Nashville called him too late. Does knowing how many times Vern Gosdin had to start over make “Chiseled in Stone” hit even harder now?

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THEY LOOKED LIKE FOUR OUTLAWS WHO COULD OUTRUN TIME ITSELF. BUT WHEN YOU WATCH THE HIGHWAYMEN SING “BIG RIVER” TODAY, THE EMPTY MICROPHONES BREAK YOUR HEART. Onstage, Johnny Cash, Waylon Jennings, Kris Kristofferson, and Willie Nelson looked untouchable. Four weathered men, four different wounds, four voices that made country music sound dangerous, honest, and free. When they traded verses on Cash’s “Big River,” it wasn’t just another performance. It was four old brothers chasing the same song down the same river, each one carrying a piece of the road in his voice. Cash brought the thunder. Waylon brought the grit. Kris brought the broken-poet soul. Willie floated above it all with that calm, aching grace only he could carry. Back then, the stage lights made it easy to believe they would always be there. That was the beautiful lie of watching legends stand side by side. But time does what no outlaw ever could: it catches everyone. Today, Cash is gone. Waylon is gone. Kris has crossed the river too. Willie is the only one left, still playing, still standing, still carrying a brotherhood that can never fully gather again. That is why “Big River” feels different now. It is no longer just a song about chasing something you cannot hold. It feels like time itself moving past four men we were not ready to lose. The song remains. But three microphones are empty. Does “Big River” feel heavier now that Willie is the only one left to sing it?

Country Oldies Musics

SHE WAS A BRIDE AT FIFTEEN, A MOTHER AT SIXTEEN, AND THE FIRST WOMAN NASHVILLE EVER HAD TO CALL “ENTERTAINER OF THE YEAR” — THEN SHE NAMED HER BABY AFTER THE BEST FRIEND SHE’D JUST BURIED, AND THAT BABY SPENT A LIFETIME MAKING SURE NEITHER VOICE WAS FORGOTTEN. Loretta Lynn came out of Butcher Hollow, Kentucky, with nothing but a coal miner’s last name and a voice that could pin a grown man to his chair. Married before she could drive. Four children by twenty-two. Then she wrote songs that scared Nashville half to death — about cheating husbands, birth control pills, and women who’d had enough. Sixteen number-ones. Presidential Medal of Freedom. The whole world calling her the Coal Miner’s Daughter. In 1963, her best friend Patsy Cline died in a plane crash. The next year, Loretta gave birth to twins. She named one of them Patsy. That little girl grew up backstage, between tour buses and honky-tonks. She formed The Lynns with her twin sister Peggy. Earned CMA nominations. Then she did something quieter and heavier — she stepped behind the glass and co-produced her mother’s final albums alongside Johnny Cash’s son. Loretta died October 4, 2022. That first birthday without her, Patsy woke up reaching for a phone call that wasn’t coming — her mama singing “Happy Birthday,” the way she always had. Does knowing Loretta named her daughter after a ghost she never stopped grieving make “I Fall to Pieces” feel like it belongs to both of them now?

Country Oldies Musics

“YOU MAKE THE COFFEE, I’LL MAKE THE BED.” — GLEN CAMPBELL DIDN’T NEED A LOVE POEM. HE JUST NEEDED AN OKLAHOMA MORNING. In December 1971, Glen Campbell released “Oklahoma Sunday Morning.” It peaked at #15 on the country charts—not his biggest hit by a long shot. But something about this track stuck. It wasn’t about fame or tragedy; it was about coffee, making the bed, and packing a lunch. It was the kind of love that doesn’t make headlines. But the way Glen sang it, you realized he wasn’t just describing a routine. He was singing about the only place that truly felt like home. A kid from a sharecropper’s family of twelve in Delight, Arkansas—who went on to sell 45 million records—poured something deeply personal into this quiet track. Fifty years later, folks across Oklahoma still know every word. Some songs don’t need to reach #1. They just need to be true.