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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