ДЖОННИ БИ ГУД.

В Луизиане, там где Новый Орлеан,
В лесной глуши среди вечнозеленых лиан,
Где в хижинах из бревен и земли живут,
Живет там деревенский парень Джонни Би Гуд.
Хотя читать, писать не научился он,
Его гитара звучит как колокольчиков звон.

ПРИПЕВ:

Гой! Гой! Гой, Джонни, Гой! Гой!
Гой, Джонни, Гой! Гой!
Гой, Джонни, Гой! Гой!
Гой, Джонни, Гой! Гой! Джонни Би Гуд.

Свою гитару держит он в холщовом мешке,
От железнодорожной трассы невдалеке
Под деревом его путейцы видят в тени,
В его бренчаньи стук колесный слышат они.
И люди остановятся, услышав, сказать:
Ого, да этот мальчик может играть!

ПРИПЕВ.

Ему сказала мама: подрастешь, сынок,
И большой оркестр встанет у твоих ног,
Многие приедут за много миль
Послушать музыку и оценить твой стиль.
На световом табло увидишь - буквы бегут:
"Вечером - Джонни Би Гуд!"

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JOHNNY B. GOODE (Chuck Berry)

Deep down in Louisiana, close to New Orleans,
Way back up in the woods among the evergreens,
There stood a log cabin made of earth and wood
Where lived a country boy named Johnny B. Goode
Who never ever learned to read or write so well,
But he could play the guitar just like a ringin' a bell.

CHORUS:

Go! Go! Go, Johnny, go! Go!
Go, Johnny, go! Go!
Go, Johnny, go! Go!
Go, Johnny, go! Go! Johnny B. Goode

He used to carry his guitar in a gunny sack,
Go sit beneath the tree by the railroad track.
Old engineers would see him sittin' in the shade,
Strummin' with the rhythm that the drivers made.
When people passed him by they would stop and say,
'oh, my but that little country boy could play'

CHORUS

His mother told him, 'someday you will be a man,
You will be the leader of a big ol' band.
Many people comin' from miles around
Will hear you play your music when the sun go down.
Maybe someday your name'll be in lights,
Sayin' 'Johnny B. Goode tonight''

JOHNNY B. GOODE.

In Louisiana, where New Orleans,
In the woods among the evergreen vines,
Where in huts of logs and earth live
Lives there a country boy johnny B. Goode.
Although reading and writing have not learned it,
His guitar sounds like bells ringing.

CHORUS:

Goy! Goy! Goy, Johnny, Goy! Goy!
Goy, Johnny, Goy! Goy!
Goy, Johnny, Goy! Goy!
Goy, Johnny, Goy! Goy! Johnny B. Goode.

My guitar keeps it in a canvas bag,
Not far from train tracks
Under the tree constructed see him in the shadows,
In his strumming wheel they hear a knock.
And people will stop hearing, to say:
Wow, this boy can play!

CHORUS.

He mother said: you grow up, son
And a big band will fall at your feet,
Many people will come for miles
Listen to music and appreciate your style.
On the light Board will see the letters ran:
"In The Evening - Johnny B. Goode!"

-----------------------------------------------------

JOHNNY B. GOODE (Chuck Berry)

Deep down in Louisiana, close to New Orleans,
Way back up in the woods among the evergreens,
There stood a log cabin made of earth and wood
Where lived a country boy named Johnny B. Goode
Who never ever learned to read or write so well,
But he could play the guitar just like a ringin' a bell.

CHORUS:

Go! Go! Go, Johnny, go! Go!
Go, Johnny, go! Go!
Go, Johnny, go! Go!
Go, Johnny, go! Go! Johnny B. Goode

He used to carry his guitar in a gunny sack,
Go sit beneath the tree by the railroad track.
Old engineers would see him sittin' in the shade,
Strummin' with the rhythm that the drivers made.
When people passed him by they would stop and say,
'oh, my but that little country boy could play'

CHORUS

His mother told him, 'someday you will be a man,
You will be the leader of a big ol' band.
Many people comin' from miles around
Will hear you play your music when the sun go down.
Maybe someday your name'll be in lights,
Sayin' 'Johnny B. Goode tonight"