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The Promised Land (Berry Chuck)

I left my home in Norfolk Virginia, California on my mind. Straddled that Greyhound, rode him past Raleigh, On across Caroline. Stopped in Charlotte and bypassed Rock Hill, And we never was a minute late. We was ninety miles out of Atlanta by sundown, Rollin' 'cross the Georgia state. We had motor trouble it turned into a struggle, Half way 'cross Alabam, And that 'hound broke down and left us all stranded In downtown Birmingham. Straight off, I bought me a through train ticket, Ridin' cross Mississippi clean And I was on that midnight flyer out of Birmingham Smoking into New Orleans. Somebody help me get out of Louisiana Just help me get to Houston town. There's 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, Put luggage in my hands, And I woke up high over Albuquerque On a jet to the promised land. Workin' on a T-bone steak a la carte Flying over to the Golden State; The pilot told me in thirteen minutes We'd be headin' in 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 callin' And the poor boy's on the line.