Video sound track.
______________________________________________________________
[Promised Land].....
I left my home in Norfolk, Virginia,
California on my mind.
Straddled that Greyhound, rode 'im into Raleigh,
On across Caroline.
Stopped in Charlotte, bypassed Rock Hill,
Never was a minute late.
We were ninety miles out of Atlanta by sundown,
Rollin' outa' Georgia State.
We had a little trouble.....turned into a struggle,
Half way across Alabam',
An' the 'hound broke down and left us stranded,
In down-town, Birmin'ham........
Right away, I bought me a through train ticket,
Ridin' 'cross Mississippi, clean.
An' I was on that midnight flyer outa Birmin'ham,
Smokin' inta New Orlean'...
Somebody, help me, get outa Lou'siana,
Or help me get t' Houston town.
'Cos there are people right there, who care a little 'bout me,
And they.. won't let the poor boy down.
Right as you're born, they bought me a silk suit,
Put luggage in my hand,
An' I woke up high over Albuquerque,
On a jet to, The Promised Land.....[hOw..]........
______________________________________________________________
______________________________________________________________
Audio sound track
______________________________________________________________
I left my home in Norfolk, Virginia,
California on my mind.
I straddled that Greyhound, and rode 'im into Raleigh,
An' on across Caroline.
We stopped at Charlotte, but bypassed Rock Hill,
We never was a minute late.
We was ninety miles out of Atlanta by sundown,
Rollin' outa' Georgia State.
We had motor trouble, that turned into a struggle,
Half way across Alabam',
An' that 'hound broke down an' left us all stranded,
In down-town, Birmin'ham........
Right away, I bought me a through train ticket,
Ridin' 'cross Mississippi, clean.
An' I was on that midnight flyer, outa Birmin'ham,
Smokin' inta New Orlean'...
Somebody, help me get outa Lou'siana,
Jus' help me get t' Houston town.
There are people there, who care a little 'bout me,
An' they won't let the poor boy down.
Sure as you're born, they bought me a silk suit,
Put luggage in my hand,
An' 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, chariot, come down easy,
Taxi to the terminal zone.
Cut your engines, an' cool your wings,
An' 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 callin',
An', The Poor Boy, is on the line.
______________________________________________________________
[Promised Land].....
I left my home in Norfolk, Virginia,
California on my mind.
Straddled that Greyhound, rode 'im into Raleigh,
On across Caroline.
Stopped in Charlotte, bypassed Rock Hill,
Never was a minute late.
We were ninety miles out of Atlanta by sundown,
Rollin' outa' Georgia State.
We had a little trouble.....turned into a struggle,
Half way across Alabam',
An' the 'hound broke down and left us stranded,
In down-town, Birmin'ham........
Right away, I bought me a through train ticket,
Ridin' 'cross Mississippi, clean.
An' I was on that midnight flyer outa Birmin'ham,
Smokin' inta New Orlean'...
Somebody, help me, get outa Lou'siana,
Or help me get t' Houston town.
'Cos there are people right there, who care a little 'bout me,
And they.. won't let the poor boy down.
Right as you're born, they bought me a silk suit,
Put luggage in my hand,
An' I woke up high over Albuquerque,
On a jet to, The Promised Land.....[hOw..]........
______________________________________________________________
______________________________________________________________
Audio sound track
______________________________________________________________
I left my home in Norfolk, Virginia,
California on my mind.
I straddled that Greyhound, and rode 'im into Raleigh,
An' on across Caroline.
We stopped at Charlotte, but bypassed Rock Hill,
We never was a minute late.
We was ninety miles out of Atlanta by sundown,
Rollin' outa' Georgia State.
We had motor trouble, that turned into a struggle,
Half way across Alabam',
An' that 'hound broke down an' left us all stranded,
In down-town, Birmin'ham........
Right away, I bought me a through train ticket,
Ridin' 'cross Mississippi, clean.
An' I was on that midnight flyer, outa Birmin'ham,
Smokin' inta New Orlean'...
Somebody, help me get outa Lou'siana,
Jus' help me get t' Houston town.
There are people there, who care a little 'bout me,
An' they won't let the poor boy down.
Sure as you're born, they bought me a silk suit,
Put luggage in my hand,
An' 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, chariot, come down easy,
Taxi to the terminal zone.
Cut your engines, an' cool your wings,
An' 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 callin',
An', The Poor Boy, is on the line.
song info:
Verifiziert yes
SpracheEnglisch
GenreRock & Roll
Rang−
Spieldauer00:02:29
Charts
Urheberrecht ©BMG Rights Management
SchriftstellerChuck Berry
Songtexte lizenziert vonLyricFind
HinzugefügtNovember 30th, 2011
Zuletzt aktualisiertMarch 7th, 2022
Über"Promised Land" is a song lyric written by Chuck Berry to the melody of "Wabash Cannonball", an American folk song. The song was first recorded in this version by Chuck Berry in 1964 for his album St. Louis to Liverpool. Released in December, 1964, it was Berry's first single issued following his prison term for a Mann Act conviction. The record peaked at #41 in the Billboard charts on January 16, 1965.
In the lyrics, the singer (who refers to himself as "the poor boy") tells of his journey from Norfolk, Virginia, to the "Promised Land", Los Angeles, California, mentioning various cities in Southern states that he passes through on his journey. It has subsequently been performed by numerous other artists, notably the Grateful Dead.
In the lyrics, the singer (who refers to himself as "the poor boy") tells of his journey from Norfolk, Virginia, to the "Promised Land", Los Angeles, California, mentioning various cities in Southern states that he passes through on his journey. It has subsequently been performed by numerous other artists, notably the Grateful Dead.
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