Chuck Berry - Promised Land
[Verse 1]
I left my home in Norfolk, Virginia
California on my mind
I straddled that Greyhound and rode him into Raleigh
And on across Caroline
We stopped in Charlotte but bypassed Rock Hill
We never was a minute late
We was ninety miles out of Atlanta by sundown
Rolling outta the Georgia state
We had motor trouble, it turned into a struggle
Halfway across Alabam'
And that 'hound broke down and left us all stranded
In downtown Birmingham
[Verse 2]
Right away, I bought me a through train ticket
Riding across Mississippi clean
And I was on that midnight flier out of Birmingham
Smoking into New Orleans
Somebody help me get out of Louisiana
Just help me get to Houston town
There are people there who care a little about me
And they won't let the poor boy down
Sure as you're born, they bought me a silk suit
Put luggage in my hand
And I woke up high over Albuquerque
On a jet to the promised land
[Verse 3]
Working on a T-bone steak à la carte
And flying over to the Golden State
When the pilot told us in thirteen minutes
He would set us at the terminal gate
Swing low chariot, come down easy
Taxi to the terminal zone
Cut your engines and cool your wings
And let me make it to the telephone
Los Angeles, give me Norfolk, Virginia
Tidewater four ten o nine
Tell the folks back home this is the promised land calling
And the poor boy's on the line
I left my home in Norfolk, Virginia
California on my mind
I straddled that Greyhound and rode him into Raleigh
And on across Caroline
We stopped in Charlotte but bypassed Rock Hill
We never was a minute late
We was ninety miles out of Atlanta by sundown
Rolling outta the Georgia state
We had motor trouble, it turned into a struggle
Halfway across Alabam'
And that 'hound broke down and left us all stranded
In downtown Birmingham
[Verse 2]
Right away, I bought me a through train ticket
Riding across Mississippi clean
And I was on that midnight flier out of Birmingham
Smoking into New Orleans
Somebody help me get out of Louisiana
Just help me get to Houston town
There are people there who care a little about me
And they won't let the poor boy down
Sure as you're born, they bought me a silk suit
Put luggage in my hand
And I woke up high over Albuquerque
On a jet to the promised land
[Verse 3]
Working on a T-bone steak à la carte
And flying over to the Golden State
When the pilot told us in thirteen minutes
He would set us at the terminal gate
Swing low chariot, come down easy
Taxi to the terminal zone
Cut your engines and cool your wings
And let me make it to the telephone
Los Angeles, give me Norfolk, Virginia
Tidewater four ten o nine
Tell the folks back home this is the promised land calling
And the poor boy's on the line
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