Promised Land
Presley covers Berry, well. A century from now, this might be the definitive song defining the rock and roll era — 2Oth century, early electric, American folk music, created for the first time in history a small musician aristocracy that for better and worse was culturally influential.
Buses, trains, planes, and telephones
“Awe get on it…
I left my home in Norfolk, Virginia California on my mind
I straddled that Greyhound and rode him into Raleigh and on across Caroline
Stopped in Charlotte and bypassed Rock Hill we never was a minute late
We was ninety miles out of Atlanta by sundown rollin' out of 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
Right away 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 are 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
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
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 callin'
And the poor boy's on the line”
Promised Land, Chuck Berry, 1964