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 a leaven'
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
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
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
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 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
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