Promised Land chords by Marra Michael

Tuning: Standard (E A D G B E)



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

Solo:
A D E A A D E A