Intro:
| /7 7 7 7 /7 7 7 7 10p9p7 |
| 7 9 /7 7 7 7 /7 7 7 7 10p9p7 |
| /8 7h8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 |
| 9 7 7 7 7 7 7 7 7 |
| 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 |
| 7 7 7 7 7 7 7 7 |
2x(chorus riff)
| | |
| 7 9 7 | 7 7 7 7 7 7 7 7 |
| /8 8\6 4 | 9(11) 9(11) 9(11) 9(11) |
| 6 4 | |
| | |
| | |
Riff a:
| 7 10 9 7 |
| 10 9 7 10 9 7 7 7 |
| 9(11) (11)9 7 7(8) |
| 9 7 9 |
| 9 9~ |
| |
Riff b:
4x
| /7 7 7 7 7 |
| /7 7 7 7 7 9 7(8) |
| 9 7(8) |
| 9 |
| |
| |
Solo:
slow bend slow trill
| |
| 9(11)9(11)9(11)9(11) 7 |
| 9(11)9(11)9(11)9(11) 9(11)~~9p7 9p7h9p7h9p7h9p7 |
| |
| |
| |
Repeat riff a and b
| 7 10 |
| 7 10(12)~ /12 10h12p10 10 10(12) |
| 9(11)(12)(11)9 7(8) 9(11) 11 |
| 9 |
| |
| |
| 7 |
| 7 10p7 7 |
| 9(11) 9(11) 9p7 7 |
| 9 |
| 9~ |
| |
wah on high treble
| 12 |
| 15(17)~~ 12 15(17)15p12 12~~ 15 17 17(19)~~ (19)17p15 15 |
| 14 /16 16 |
| |
| |
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Third verse
Riff b
| 10(12)10(12)10p7 |
| 10p7 7 7 7 10p7 7 |
| 9 9(11) (11)9p7 9(11) 9(11) |
| 9 |
| |
| |
| |
| 7 7 10p7 |
| 9(11) 9p7 7 9(11)9p7 |
| 9p7 9 9 |
| 9 7 9~ |
| |
Riff b
| 10(12) 10~ 10 10 7 7 |
| 7 10(12) 10(12) 10(12) 10(12)~ 10(12) 10(12) |
| 9(11)~9 |
| |
| |
| |
Riff a
Riff b
| |
| 10(12)10 10(12)~ 10p7 |
| 7(9)7(9)7(9)7(9)7(9) 9 7 9 7h9(11) 9p7 7 |
| /9 7h9 9 |
| |
| |
Outro(a capella):
| 10 12(14) 12p10 |
| 10(12)~~ 10p7 10(12)10p7 /12 12 12p10 10 |
| 9 11 11\9p7 9 |
| |
| |
| |
| 7 |
| 7 10p7 7 |
| 9p7 7 9(11) 7h9p7 7 9(11) |
| 9 9p7 7 9 9p7h9 7 |
| 9 9\7p5 9 7h9p7\5 |
| 7 7~~ |
Lyrics:
B
Deep down in Louisiana, close to New Orleans,
Way back up in the woods among the evergreens,
E
There stood a log cabin made of earth and wood
B
Where lived a country boy named Johnny B. Goode
F#
Who never ever learned to read or write so well,
B
But he could play the guitar just like a ringin' a bell.
CHORUS:
B
Go! Go! Go, Johnny, go! Go!
E
Go, Johnny, go! Go!
B
Go, Johnny, go! Go!
F# B
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,