Deep down in Louisiana, back in New Orleans
Way back up in the woods, among the evergreens
Stood a log cabin made of earth and wood
Where lived a hillbilly boy named Johnny B. Goode
Who never ever learned To read or write so well
But he could rock n' roll like a bat out of hell

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
He sit down by the tree by the railroad track
The engineer could see him sitting in the shade
Strumming with the rhythm that the drivers made
People passing by, they would stop and say
My, that St. Louie boy can play

Go
Go, Johnny, go, go
Go, Johnny, go, go
Go, Johnny, go, go
Go, Johnny, go, go
Johnny B. Goode
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