He come from Louisiana, close to New Orleans Way back up in the woods up near the evergreens There stood a log cabin made of earth and wood Where lived a country boy named Johnny B. Goode He never ever learned to read or write so well But he could play the guitar just like a ringing a bell Go go Go Johnny go go Johnny B. Goode He used to carry his guitar in a gunney sack And sit beneath the trees by the railroad tracks Engineers would see him sittin' in the shade Strummin' to the rhythm that the drivers made And people passing by would stop and say My my but that little country boy can play ~CHORUS~