Johny B.Good

Deep down in Louisiana close to New Orleans, Way back into the woods among the evergreens. There stood an old cabin made of earth and Wood, where lived 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. Go, go. Go Johnny, go. Go. Johnny, Go. Go. Go Johnny, Johnny, go. Go. Go Johnny, go. Yeah. He carried his guitar in a sack, Go sit beneath the tree by the railroad track. Oh, the engineer he looked at him sneakin' in A shade, strummin' with the rhythm that the drivers Made. The people passin' by, they would stop and Say, "My, but that little country boy could play." Go. Go Johnny, go. Go. Go Johnny, go. Go Johnny, go. Go. Go Johnny, go. Go. Go Johnny, go. His mama told him, "Someday you will be a Man, and you will be the leader of a Big old band. Many people coming from the miles around to hear You play your music 'til the sun go down. Maybe someday your name'll be in lights." Johnny B. Goode, come on! Go. Go. Go Johnny, go. Go. Go. Go Johnny, go. Go. Go Johnny, go. Go Johnny, Johnny, go. Go Johnny, go. Johnny B. Goode. Go. Go. Go. Go Johnny B. Goode. Go. Johnny B. Goode.