(Words & music by Chuck Berry) I left my home in Norfolk Virginia California on my mind I straddled that Greyhound And rode into Raleigh And on across Caroline
We had motor trouble that turned into a struggle Halfway across Alabam' And that hound broke down and left us all stranded In downtown Birmingham
Right away I brought me a through train ticket Ridin' across Mississippi clean And I was on that midnight flyer out of Birmingham Smoking into New Orleans
Somebody help me get out of Louisiana Just to 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 she bore me, she bought me a silk suit Put luggage in my hand And I woke up high over Alburquerque On a jet to the promised land
Working on a T-bone steak a la carte Flying over to the golden state Ah 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 is on the line