Promised Land

Chuck Berry, 1964

 

I left my home in Norfolk, Virginia, California on my mind

I straddled that Greyhound and rode him into Raleigh and on across Caroline

Stopped in Charlotte and passed Rockhill, we never was a minute late

We was ninety miles out of Atlanta by sundown, rollin' out of Georgia State

We had motor trouble that turned into a struggle half-way across Alabam'

And that 'Hound broke down and left us all stranded in downtown Birmingham

 

Right away I bought me a through train ticket, ridin' 'cross the Mississippi clean

And I was on the Midnight Flyer out of Birmingham, smokin' 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 'bout me and they won't let the poor boy down

Sure as you're born, they bought me a silk suit, they put luggage in my hand

And I woke up high over Albuquerque on a jet to the promised land

 

Workin' on a T-bone steak a la carte, flyin' over to the Golden State

When the pilot told us in thirteen minutes he would set us at the terminal gate

Swing low sweet chariot, come down easy, taxi to the terminal zone

Cut your engines, 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