Michel Marra - Promised Land (Chuck Berry)
E|------------------------------------------|

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[Verse]
A                                                   D
Left my home in Norfolk, Virginia, California on my mind.
  E                                                                   A
I straddled that Greyhound, rode him into Raleigh, and on across Caro-line.

A                                                                              D
We drived by Charlotte and drove through Rock Hill, and we never was a minute late.
       E                                                              A
We was ninety miles out of Atlanta by sundown, rollin' out of Georgia state.

A                                                                    D
We had motor trouble, it turned into a struggle, Half way 'cross Ala-bam,
         E                                                              A
And the 'hound broke down and left us all stranded, in downtown Birming-ham

A                                                                           D
Right away, I bought me a through-train ticket, straight across Mississippi clean
         E                                               A
I hopped aboard that midnight flyer, smoking into New Or-leans.

[Solo]
A D E A  A D E A

A                                                                         D
Somebody gotta help me get out of Louisiana, gotta help me get to Houston Town
           E                                                                   A
There's an uncle there who cares a bit about me, and he won't let the poor boy down

A                                                                           D
Well sure as you're born they bought me a silk suit, put some luggage in my hand
      E                                                        A
And I woke up high over Alburquerque, on a jet to the promised land, yeah yeah yeah

[Solo]
A D E A  A D E A

A                                                                         D
Somebody gotta help me get out of Louisiana, gotta help me get to Houston Town
          E                                                                    A
There's an uncle there who cares a bit about me, and he won't let the poor boy down

A                                                                           D
Well sure as you're born they bought me a silk suit, put some luggage in my hand
      E                                                        A
And I woke up high over Alburquerque, on a jet to the promised land

A                                                      D
Swing low chariot come down easy, taxi to the terminal zone
     E                                                               A
Cut your engines and cool your wings, and let me make it to the tele-phone

A                                                           D
Los Angeles, get me No'folk, V'ginia, Tidewater four ten o' nine
         E                                                                         A
Tell the folks back home this is the promised land calling, the poor boy is on the line