Lyrics:
a country boy named Johnny B. Goode
He never learned to read or write so well,
But he could play a guitar like ringin' a bell
Go go, go Johnny go, go; go
need no band
They keep time by clappin' their hand
Just as happy as a cow chewin' on a cud,
When the people beat their feet on the Mississippi Mud.
need no band
They keep time by clappin' their hand
Just as happy as a cow chewin' on a cud,
When the people beat their feet on the Mississippi Mud.
five and dime
One of the boys in Eddie's band took a shine to Rita's hands
So Eddie ran off with the bass man's wife
Oh, but he was back by June,
lived a country boy named Johnny B. Goode
Who never ever learned to read or write so well
But he could play a guitar just like a-ringin' a bell
Go go
fright
I guess we could cruise down one more time
With you by my side, it should be fine
We'll buy some drugs and watch a band
Then jump in the river
believe what the boys are blowing
You got to come on man
And take a piece of Mister Parker's band
You'll be riding by, bareback on your armadillo
A ragged suitcase in his hand, he steals silently away from the circus grounds
And the highway's haunted by the carnival sounds
They dance like a great
believe what the boys are blowin'.
You got to come on, man, and take a piece of Mister Parker's band.
You'll be ridin' by bareback on your armadillo;
and blouses
Ha ha take off my trousers, ya
Ya don't know nothing bout this!
Ay! I'm a dope boy wit a guitar
Hey daddy can ya let me
Ride wit' the band in
tangerines and elephants are playin' in the band
Won't you take a ride on the flyin' spoon? Doo, doo doo
A wond'rous apparition provided by a magician
Doo,
A ragged suitcase in his hand, he steals silently away from the circus grounds
And the highway's haunted by the carnival sounds
They dance like a great
My love is alien, I picked her up by chance
She speaks to me, with ultra-high frequencies
Radio band of gold
Gonna listen til I grow old
Oo hoo
Ride wit' the band in the back seat
Riding wit' the dope boy! (I'm a dope boy wit a guitar)
Tell 'em if they looking for me
I'm on the road
sittin' in the shade
Listen to the rhythm that the drivers made
The people comin' by they would stop and say
Oh my but that little country boy could play
Go
boy name of Johnny B. Goode
He never ever learned to read or write so well,
But he could play the guitar just like ringing a bell.
Go, go
Go, Johnny go
[Originally by Chuck Berry]
Way down Louisiana close to New Orleans,
Way back up in the woods among the evergreens...
There stood a log cabin made
the band
Oh, when he does tricks with the sticks
The boys in the band all play hot licks
He plays saxophone in the band
Joe plays the saxophone in
need no band.
They keep time by clapping their hands.
Just as happy as a cow chewin' on a cud.
It's a treat to beat your feet on the Mississippi
the band
Oh, when he does tricks with the sticks
The boys in the band all play hot licks
He plays saxophone in the band
Joe plays the saxophone in
on the hill
Was the boy with the curly hair.
The tall dark man who rode by his side
Lay dead beside him there.
There's no one to write to the blue-eyed girl
We're off on the road to Morocco
This camel is tough on the spine (hit me with a band-aid, Dad)
Where they're goin', why we're goin', how can we
a country boy name of Johnny B. Goode
He never ever learned to read or write so well
But he could play a guitar just like a-ringing a bell
[Chorus]
Go,
It's the last country song by
The last country band
In the last honky tonk in the world
It's the last country dance on
The last hardwood floor
For
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