Lyrics:
Laughin' Boy, guitar Johnny's playing the blues so low
Laughin' Boy, don't it make you want to cry
you know, I can't imagine you were the magic boy
I want a suit just like Hank's
I want a voice just like Johnny Cash
A big Gibson guitar with "F"
Holes in the middle
A girlfriend like Dolly
[guitar] + few times poor Johnny
boots on the drums was checkers
Luis Vuitton with the Gucci guitar
Johnny Ryall
Who do you think you are
Johnny Ryall, Johnny Ryall
Donald Trump Donald
eighteen I went to Hollywood,
I met Elvis and Marilyn and Johnny B. Good.
Got my guitar painted as the California sun,
My red Cadillac havin' too much fun.
bye, bye, bye
Bye bye Johnny
Good bye Johnny B. Goode
She remembered taking money out from gathering crop
And buying Johnny's guitar at a broker
Johnny went to school
He kept getting jumped
Today was the day
That he wouldn't run
He's a warrior
He said, he's a warrior
Likkle Jimmy
In a dark horse town, in the middle of the west
Where Friday takes so long to arrive
Johnny wakes up dreaming and turns on the radio
The he
I listened to him real closely.
This is what he said.
'You was born for good luck, Johnny.'
'Bad luck can't do you no harm.'
'You was born for
listened to him real closely.
This is what he said.
'You was born for good luck, Johnny.'
'Bad luck can't do you no harm.'
'You was born for good luck.'
of love)
(Rocket yeah satellite of love)
Rocket baby!
C'mon, I'll be your satellite of love
Spotlight, magnetic, razor rhythm
(Laser love)
Guitar
Cause we've had enough of this weird pop country sound
On my guitar, brothers and sisters come, and gather around
A country state of mind
We'll pass
a country boy name of Johnny B. Goode
He never ever learned to read or write so well,
But he could play the guitar like ringing a bell.
Go Go
Go Johnny
Johnny changed his name to speedo though he never owed
a car.when the drag was down on main street,
he'd be wish'en on a star.
Then one day he made
you could
Howling like you can
It gets me thinking of Johnny B. Good
But you know you ain't no man
When I heard you play I knew your
name should
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
Go, Johnny
and three chords on an old guitar
There’s a few more things you ought to learn to be a country star
You got to learn to sing like Waylon or pick like Jerry
I hear the sound of your guitar
Comin' from the mystic far
Stone and the gravel in your voice
Come in my dreams and I rejoice
It's your ghost
She left me by myself.
She left me this mo'nin'.
She left me by myself.
She said, 'Johnny, yes I'm gone.'
'I won't be back no mo'.'
'You don't stop
You pawn your coat and your car
Pawned your cigar and your old guitar
You pawned your guitar and your saxophone
You're pawning everything in your
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
Go Johnny go
Blacked out, like it was in 1968
Like Johnny Cash any given day
Like a Mach 1 Fastback Mustang
Blacked out, like the clouds hanging over this heart
but give the Devil his due
I'll bet a guitar of gold against your soul that says I'm better than you"
But the boy said, "My name's Johnny, and it
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
Go Johnny go
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