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Deep down in 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 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 the guitar just like a ringin' 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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Or sit beneath the tree by the railroad track |
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Oh an engineer could see him sitting in the shade |
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Strummin' with the rhythm that the drivers made |
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People passing by they would stop and say |
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Oh my but 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 "some day you will be a man" |
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And you will 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 till the sun go down |
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Maybe someday your name gonna be in lights |
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Sayin' 'Johnny B. Goode tonight |
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Go, go, go Johnny go go |
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go go Johnny go go go |
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go Johnny go go go |
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go Johnny go go |