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