Well, Frankie and Johnny were sweethearts
True as a blue blue sky
He was a long-legged guitar picker with a wicked wanderin' 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 pickin' 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 the sofa thinkin' about her man
Far away the couples dancing 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 the guitar he could play
He was Frankie's man but she was far away
Well, he sang every song to the redhead
She smiled back at him
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
Because sometimes it seems like a guitar picker just can't tell what to pick
He was Frankie's man and he still had done her wrong
