Frankie And Johnnie

Frankie and Johnny were lovers —
Lord, how they did love.
They swore to be true to each other,
True as the stars above;
He was her man, but he was doing her wrong.
Frankie, she was a good girl —
Everybody should know,
She paid one hundred dollars
To buy Johnny a new suit of clothes.
He was her man, but he was doing her wrong.
Frankie went down to the corner,
Just for a glass of beer;
She said to the fat bartender,
«Has my lovin' Johnny been here?
Have you seen my man? I think he’s doing me wrong.»
«Well, I don’t want to cause you no trouble,
And I don’t want to tell you no lies,
But I seen your man about an hour ago
With a girl named Nellie Bly;
He was your man — I think he’s doing you wrong.»
Then Frankie went home in a hurry;
She didn’t go there for fun;
Frankie went home to get a-hold
Of Johnny’s six-shooting gun.
He was her man, but he done her wrong.
Frankie peeked over the transom
And there to her surprise
She saw her lovin-man Johnny
With that high-browed Nellie Bly.
He was her man, and he was doing her wrong.
Then Frankie pulled back her kimono,
And she pulled out a small .44
And root-e-toot-toot three times she shot
Right through that hardwood door.
She shot her man 'cos he was doing her wrong.
«Well roll me over on to my left side,
Roll me over so slow,
Roll me over on my left hand side, Frankie,
Them bullets hurt me so,
I was your man, but I was doing you wrong.»
Now, bring round your rubber-tired buggy,
And bring round your rubber-tired hack;
She’s taking her man to the graveyard
And she ain’t gonna bring him back.
She shot that man 'cos he was doing her wrong.
This story has no moral,
This story has got no end,
Well the story just goes to show you women
That there ain’t no good in the men.
He was her man, but he was doing her wrong