Johnny B. Goode La#M Re#M FaM

Deep down in Louisiana, close to New Orleans, way back up in the woods among the evergreens

There stood a lone, caring male, far off in wood, where he lived in a country boy named Johnny B. Goode

Who never ever learned to read or write so well, but he could play guitar just like ringing a bell. 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 neck on his head, could sit beneath the tree

by the railroad track, hold the engineer's routines in the shade, strumming with the

rhythm that the drivers made, the people passing by they would stop and say "oh my what that

little girl could play go-go go Johnny go-go go Johnny go-go go Johnny go-go go

Johnny go-go Johnny be good. Smaller, taller someday you'll be a man and you will be

the leader of a big old band. Many people coming from miles around to hear you

play your music when the sun go down maybe someday your name will be in the

light saying Johnny be good tonight go go go go go Johnny go go go Johnny go

go go Johnny go go go Johnny go go Johnny be good