eep 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 named Johnny B. Goode

    
Who never ever learned to read or write so well,

             
But he could play the guitar just like a ringin' a bell.

 

 
 [bad word] 

 


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.

Old engineers would see him sittin' in the shade,
 [bad word]  with the rhythm that the drivers made.

When people passed him by they would stop and say,

'oh, my but that little country boy could play'

 
 [bad word] 
 

His mother told him, 'someday you will be a man,

You will be the leader of a big ol' band.

Many [bad word]  from miles around

Will hear you play your music when the sun go down.

Maybe someday your name'll be in lights,

Sayin' 'Johnny B. Goode tonight''