Deep down Louisiana close to New Orleans,<br /> Way back up in the woods among the evergreens<br /> There stood a log cabin made of earth and wood,<br /> Where lived a country boy named of Johnny B. Goode<br /> Who never ever learned to read or write so well,<br /> But he could play the guitar like ringing a bell. <br /> (Chorus) <br /> <br /> Go Go<br /> Go Johnny Go<br /> Go Go<br /> Johnny B. Goode<br /> He use to carry his guitar in a gunny sack<br /> Or sit beneath the trees by the railroad track.<br /> Oh, the engineers used to see him sitting in the shade,<br /> Strumming with the rhythm that the drivers made.<br /> The People passing by, they would stop and say<br /> Oh my that little country boy could play <br /> <br /> (Chorus) <br /> <br /> His mother told him someday you will be a man,<br /> And you would be the leader of a big old band.<br /> Many people coming from miles around<br /> To hear you play your music when the sun go down<br /> Maybe someday your name will be in lights<br /> Saying Johnny B. Goode tonight. <br /> <br /> (Chorus)