Создатели

ИСПОЛНИТЕЛИ
Elvis Presley
Elvis Presley
Исполнитель
The Stamps
The Stamps
Вокал
Voice
Voice
Вокал
Kathy Westmoreland
Kathy Westmoreland
Вокал
Mary Greene
Mary Greene
Вокал
Mary Holladay
Mary Holladay
Вокал
Susan Pilkington
Susan Pilkington
Вокал
Ginger Holladay
Ginger Holladay
Вокал
Mary Cain
Mary Cain
Вокал
МУЗЫКА И СЛОВА
Chuck Berry
Chuck Berry
Автор песен
ПРОДЮСЕРЫ И ЗВУКОРЕЖИССЕРЫ
Dick Baxter
Dick Baxter
Инженер
Mike Moran
Mike Moran
Инженер
Felton Jarvis
Felton Jarvis
Продюсер

Слова

[Verse 1]
I left my home in Norfolk, Virginia
California on my mind
I straddled that Greyhound and rode into Raleigh
And on across Caroline
[Verse 2]
We had a motor trouble that turned into a struggle
Halfway across Alabam'
Well that 'Hound broke down and left us all stranded
In downtown Birmingham
[Verse 3]
Right away, I bought me a through train ticket
Ridin' 'cross Mississippi clean
And I was on that midnight flyer outta Birmingham
Smokin' into New Orleans
[Verse 4]
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
[Verse 5]
Sure as you're board, brought me a silk suit
Put luggage in my hand
And I woke up high over Albuquerque
On a jet to the promised land
[Verse 6]
Workin' on a t-bone steak a la carté
Flyin' over to the golden state
When the pilot told us, in thirteen minutes
He would set us at the terminal gate
[Verse 7]
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
[Verse 8]
Los Angeles, give me Norfolk, Virginia
Tidewater four-ten-oh-nine
Tell the folks back home, this sis the promised land callin'
And the poor boy is on the line
[Verse 9]
Workin' on a t-bone steak a la carté
Flyin' over to the golden state
When the pilot told us, in thirteen minutes
He would set us at the terminal gate
[Verse 10]
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
[Verse 11]
Los Angeles, give me Norfolk, Virginia
Tidewater four-ten-O-nine
Tell the folks back home, this sis the promised land callin'
And the poor boy is on the line
Written by: Chuck Berry
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out

Loading...