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Way 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 name of Johnny B. Goode...
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He never ever learned to read or write so well,
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But he could play the guitar like ringing a bell.
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Go Go Go Johnny Go
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Go Go Johnny B. Goode
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He use 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 used to see 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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His mama told him someday he would be a man,
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And he 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 him play his music when the sun go down
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Maybe someday his name would be in lights
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Saying Johnny B. Goode tonight.
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Johnny b. goode
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Marty Mcfly |