Frankie's Man, Johnny

Well, now Frankie

And Johnny were sweethearts

They were true as a blue, blue sky

He was a long-legged guitar picker

With a wicked wandering eye

But he was her man

Nearly all of the time

Well, Johnny

He packed up to leave her

But he promised he'd be back

He said he had a little picking to do

A little farther down the track

He said, I'm your man

I wouldn't do you wrong

Well, Frankie curled up on a sofa

Thinking about her man

Far away the couples were dancing

To the music of his band

He was Frankie's man

He wasn't doing her wrong

Then in the front door

Walked a redhead

Johnny saw her right away

She came down by the bandstand

To watch him while he played

He was Frankie's man

But she was far away

He sang every song to the redhead

She smiled back at him

Then he came and sat at her table

Where the lights were low and dim

What Frankie didn't know

Wouldn't hurt her none

Then the redhead

Jumped up and slapped him

She slapped him a time or two

She said, I'm Frankie's sister

And I was checking up on you

If you're her man

You better treat her right

Well, the moral of this story

Is be good but carry a stick

Sometimes it looks like a guitar picker

Just can't tell what to pick

He was Frankie's man and

He still ain't done her wrong