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The Promised Land
Freddy Weller
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I left my home in Norfolk, Virginia, California on my mind
Strattled that greyhound and rode him into Releigh and on across Caroline
Stopped in Charlotte we bypassed Blackhill, never was a minute late
We were ninety miles out of Atlanta by sundown, rollin' out of Georgia state
Had motor trouble, it turned into a struggle, half way across Alabama
And the hound broke down, and left us all stranded in downtown Birmingham
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Right away I bought me a through-train ticket, ridin' 'cross Mississippi clean
And I was on that midnight flyer out of Birmingham, smokin' into New Orleans
Somebody help me get out of Louisiana, help me get to Houston town
There's people there who care a little 'bout me, and they won't a-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
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Workin' on a T-bone steak a La Carte, flyin' over to the golden state
When the pilot told us that in thirteen minutes he would set us at the terminal gate
Swing low chariot, come down easy, taxi to the terminal dome
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 callin' and the poor boy's on the line
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Tell the folks back home this is the promised land callin' and the poor boy's on the line
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