I was visiting my brother and his wife in Cumberland Gap for the weekend when I ended the trip on a bad note. We were working on something that required a computer. Their office doubled as a scrap-booking and craft area. While it occurred to me to keep liquids away from the computer, it did not occur to me to treat the craft table in a like manner.
Just before I left, I knocked my nearly empty coffee cup over. Though a small amount, the coffee traveled everywhere fast. Needless to say, I messed up some of his wife's scrap-booking materials. We did our best cleanup/salvage job, but the damage was done. She was busy at work and I wasn't able to apologize to her before leaving.
As I made the 3 hour drive back to Nashville I contemplated my clumsiness and lamented my mistake. The phrases "we can't take you anywhere" and "this is why we can't have nice things" came to mind. I started thinking about how maybe everyone I come into contact with should have plastic covers on their furniture. I also thought about how covering your furniture in plastic was a grandmotherly thing to do. My Grandma did not do that (because she was super classy and totally awesome), but she did call her couch a davenport. Davenport rolls off the tongue much better than scrap-booking table, (or any other word with a P next to a B) and so the substitution was made. Suddenly, just before Knoxville, the song came out as a stream of consciousness. Oddly enough, I was able to repeat it. I sang it over and over until I made it to Nashville, where I anxiously put pen to paper upon my arrival.
To this day, Davenport is the only song I've ever written that takes as long to play as it did to write.