Way 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 By name of Johnny B. Goode
He 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 Johnny Go
Go Go, Go Johnny Go
Go Johnny Go
Go Go, Johnny B. Goode
He used to carry his guitar in a gunny sack
And sit beneath the trees by the railroad track.
Oh, the engineers saw 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 Johnny Go
Go Go, Go Johnny Go
Go Johnny Go
Go Go, Johnny B. Goode
His mama told him someday he would be a man,
And he would be the leader of a big old band.
Many [bad word] from miles around
To hear him play his music 'til the sun go down
Maybe someday his name would be in lights
Saying Johnny B. Good tonight.
Go Go, Go Johnny Go
Go Johnny Go
Go Go, Go Johnny Go
Go Johnny Go
Go Go, Johnny B. Goode