Johnny B. Goode Johnny Rivers

Berry

Deep down Louisiana close to New Orleans
Way back up in the woods among the evergreens
There stood a log cabin made of earth and wood
Where lived a country boy name Johnny B. Goode
Who never ever learned to read or write so well
But he could play the guitar like ringing a bell

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

He use to carry his guitar in a gunny sack
And sit beneath the trees by the railroad track
The engineers used to see him sitting in the shade
Playing to the rhythm that the drivers made
People passing by would stop and say
Oh my, that little country boy could play

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