"Just me and my guitar" is how Clay Mottley might describe his music. But Billboard put it differently. "A master craftsman's touch for melody and words" and "Mottley is a clever, catchy and ever-inventive songwriter who delivers originals that sparkle like sunlight on gemstones" are just some of the glowing remarks Billboard had to say about his first two self-produced and self-released albums.
Performing in the mid-Atlantic region, Mottley has developed into a strong songwriter, with comparisons from the Dave Matthews Band to James Taylor to Doobie Brothers to John Mayer.
While Mottley's songs are enough to garner recognition, "his deft touch on such diverse instruments as acoustic guitar, accordion, and Hammond B-3" have also brought him praise. Put it all together and you have a showcase of songs that "portend great things to come."

Nothing's Ever Really Gone

Close your eyes, and I’ll close mine. Everything disappears.
It’s dark inside, but I can still see you and the fallen years.
And I could lose my eyes and the brightest of colors,
But the heart still sings its song.
I can speak to you like a prayer for a brother because
Nothing’s ever really gone.

Here I sit, just one lone shadow, and the candle’s burning down.
The room is darker than it used to be and it’s colder now I have found.
Because there’s one less flame and the light’s a bit dim.
But the smell of smoke is strong.
Though the wax reforms, the candle remains because
Nothing’s ever really gone.

Another day like the thousand before and the million that I’ll forget.
But they’re only part of the puzzle we’ve made and the final piece is not here yet.
So don’t worry now. I’ll take it from here.
There’s work still left to be done.
It’s coming into focus; I can see your face so clear.
Cause nothing’s ever really gone.

This Old Me

This old town once impressed me. Now I've seen it all before.
It used to be so big and exciting, not the same store after store.
But I'll give it one more change to impress me.
One last miracle mile.
I'll sit back, take it all in. Come on, town. Give me one more reason to smile.

This old car was a beauty, smooth as silk at 110,
with a soft cushion in the middle for the late night dinners and drive-ins.
Now it's making camp in my backyard, this dirty rusty metal load.
I'll take a seat inside. Come on car, how about one more for the road.

Age to age, there's nothing I can do to stop the fading to grey.
But how I wish I could animate the pictures for one more yesterday.

This old shirt used to wear me like it knew every inch of my skin.
It made me look so casually cool; I was confident and I was in.
But now it's doing time in my closet, hoping to be paroled.
I'll try to squeeze myself into it. Come on shirt, I guess one of us is getting old.

Age to age, there's nothing I can do to revive all the way back whens.
My baby, she tries to explain it, and speaks to me with a curious grin...and she says

This old boy used to bring me flowers and cards. Not just the mail.
He used to open doors and sing me love songs and dance till midnight.
But I'll give him one more chance to impress me. Somethings change but never die.
A late night dinner in an old t-shirt, come on baby. Maybe we could even take a drive.

Walking Away

You walk slowly, but every step gets further away.
You speak softly but heavy are the words that you say.
And you're leaving behind things you said you would need.
I'm tending to wounds, while you're letting them bleed.
There must be a greater hunger to feed.

So look to the mountains. Find deeper oceans.
Change your horizons. Whatever your notion.
You call it freedom. You call it whatever you may.
I call it walking away.

So start your running. This heart can only hinder your dreams.
The time is coming, and I won't be one to stand in between.
You're taking your chances and playing with fate.
You breaking down walls only you would create.
You might find your answer a little too late.

So look to the mountains. Find deeper oceans.
Change your horizons. Whatever your notion.
You call it freedom. You call it whatever you may.
I call it walking away.

We all find ourselves from time to time
with nowhere to run to and nowhere to climb.
But love's not measured in losses and wins.
It's not what you take out, but what you put in.

So walk slowly for I may never see you again.
Go on and show me I'm only here for you to offend.
This world's big enough to get lost in the crowd.
You'll make your last stand when you take your last bow.
But don't settle for less than the price of being proud.

Just look to the mountains. Find deeper oceans.
Change your horizons. Whatever your notion.
You call it freedom. You call it whatever you may.
I call it walking away.