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, wondering 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 further down the track
He said,"I'm your man, I wouldn't do you wrong"

Well Frankie curled up on the sofa
Thinkin' about her man
Far away couples were dancin' to the music of his band
He was Frankie's man he wasn't doin' 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 another 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'd 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

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