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 name of Johny B. Goode,
He never ever learned to read or write so well,
But he could play a guitar just like a-ringing a bell,
Go, go, go, Johny, go,
Go, go, Johny, go,
Go, go, Johny, go,
Go, go, Johny, go,
Go, Johny B, Goode!
Yeaa-a-a-a-a-ah!!!!
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