Deep down in Louisianna
Close to New Orleans
There stand a country cabin
Made of clay and wood
Where lives a young country boy
Named Johnny B. Goode
He never ever learned
To read or write a book so well
But he could play his guitar
Just like a-ringing a bell
Aah Johnny B. Goode!
He used to carry his guitar
In a gunny sack
Oh sitting and a-playing
In the shade
Drumming to the rhythm
That the drivers made
People passing by
Used to stop and say
My oh my
That country boy can play
Aah Johnny B. Goode!
Well his mama told him
Someday you will be a man
Many people coming
From miles around
To hear you play your music
Till the sun goes down
Maybe some day
Your name will be in light
Saying Johnny B. Goode tonight!
Aah Johnny B. Goode!