Johnny b. Goode - текст песни
Johnny b. Goode
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~
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