Deep down in 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 of Jonny B. Goode... 
Who never ever learned to read or write so well, 
But he could play a guitar like a'ringing a bell. 

Go, Go, Go Jonny Go, Go 
Go Jonny Go Go 
Go Jonny Go Go 
Go Jonny Go Go 
Johnny Goode 

He used to carry his guitar in a gunny sack 
or sit beneath the trees by the railroad track. 
Oh, the engineers would see him sitting in the shade,  [bad word] with the rhythm that the drivers made. 
the People passing by they would stop and say 
Oh my but that little country boy could play 

Go, Go, Go Jonny Go, Go 

Go Jonny Go Go 
Go Jonny Go Go 
Go Jonny Go Go 
Jonny B. Good 

His mother told him someday he would be a man, 
And you will be the leader of a big old band. 
Many [bad word] from miles around 
To hear you play your music when the sun go down 
Maybe someday your name would be in lights 
Saying Jonny B. Good tonight. 

GoGo, Go Jonny 
GoGoGo Go Jonny 
GoGoGo Go Jonny 
GoGoGo Go Jonny Go 
Go Jonny B. Good