Deep down in Louisiana, close to New Orleans,
way back up in the woods, among the evergreens.
There stand a country cabin, made of tar and wood,
where lives a country boy named Johnny B. Goode.
He never learned to read or write a book so well.
He could play his guitar just like a-ringing the bell.
Go, go, go, Johnny, go, go, go
Go, Johnny, go, go, go
Go, Johnny, go, go, go
Go, Johnny, go, go, go
aah - Johnny B. Goode
He used to carry his guitar in a gunny sack.
Sit beneath the trees by the railroad track.
Oh, sitting and a-playing in the shade,
strumming to the rhythm that the drivers made
People passing by used to stop and say:
My, but how that country boy could play
Go, go, go, Johnny, go, go, go
Go, Johnny, go, go, go
Go, Johnny, go, go, go
Go, Johnny, go, go, go
aah - Johnny B. Goode
Ooh
Well, his mama told him Someday you will be a man,
and you will be the leader of a big oil band.
Many people coming from miles around
to hear you play your music till the sun goes down.
Maybe someday, your name will be in lights
saying: 'Johnny B. Goode tonight'
Taken from AlbumSongAndLyrics.comGo, go, go, Johnny, go, go, go
Go, Johnny, go, go, go
Go, Johnny, go, go, go
Go, Johnny, go, go, go
Johnny B. Goode