Well, down in Lousiana close to New Orleans
Way back up in the woods neath the evergreens
There stands a log cabin made of earth and wood
Where lived a little country boy named Johnny B. Goode
He never ever learned
To read or write so well
He could play a guitar
Just like a ringing a bell
Go, go
Go, Johnny, go, go
Go, Johnny, go, go
Go, Johnny, go, go
Go, Johnny, go, go
Johnny B. Goode
He used to carry his guitar in a gunny sack
Go sit beneath the tree by the railroad track
The engineer would see him sitting in the shade
Strumming through the rhythm that the drivers made
The people passing by
They would stop and say
"My, how that little
Country boy can play"
Go, go
Go, Johnny, go, go
Go, Johnny, go, go
Go, Johnny, go, go
Go, Johnny, go, go
Johnny B. Goode
Well, his mama told him, "Someday, you will be a man
You will be the leader of a country band
The people gonna come from miles around
To hear you play your music when the sun goes down"
Maybe someday
Your name will be at lights
Saying, "Johnny B. Goode tonight"
Yeah
Go, go
Go, Johnny, go, go
Go, Johnny, go, go
Go, Johnny, go, go
Go, Johnny, go, go
Johnny B. Goode