Deep down in Jamaica, close to Mandeville
Back up in the woods, on top of a hill
There stood an old hut made of earth and wood
Where lived a country boy named Johnny B. Goode
He never learned to read and a-write so well
But he could play his guitar like ringing a bell, yell
Go, Johnny, Johnny B. Goode tonight
Go, Johnny, Johnny B. Goode tonight
He used to carry his guitar in a gunny sack
Sitting in a tree in the railroad track
Old engineer in the train sitting in the shade
Strummin' with the rhythm that them drivers made
People pa**ing by would stop and say
Oh my, oh my, what the boy can play
Go, Johnny, Johnny B. Goode tonight
Go, Johnny, Johnny B. Goode tonight
Mama said: Son, you gotta be a man
You gotta be the leader of a reggae band
People coming in from miles around
To hear you play until the sun goes down
Boy, someday, your name will be in the lights
Saying: Johnny B. Goode tonight
Go, Johnny, Johnny B. Goode tonight
Go, Johnny, Johnny B. Goode tonight