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