FRANKIE’S MAN JOHNNY
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Well, now, Frankie and Johnny were sweethearts;
They were true as a blue, blue sky.
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He was a long-legged guitar picker with a wicked wanderin' eye,
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But he was her man nearly all of the time.
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Well, Johnny, he packed up to leave her, But he promised he'd be back.
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He said he had a little pickin' to do a little farther down the track.
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He said, "I'm your man; I wouldn't do you wrong."
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Well, Frankie curled up on the sofa, Thinkin' about her man.
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Far away the couples were dancin' to the music of his band.
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He was Frankie's man; he wasn't doin' her wrong.
Then in the front door walked a red head ,Johnny saw her right away.
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She came down by the bandstand to watch him while he played.
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He was Frankie's man, but she was far away.
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He sang ev'ry song to the redhead, She smiled back at him.
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Then he came and sat by her table, where the lights were low and dim.
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What Frankie didn't know wouldn't hurt her none.
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Then the redhead jumped up an slapped him;
She slapped him a time or two.
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She said, "I'm Frankie's sister and I was checkin' up on you.
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If you're her man you better treat her right."
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Well, the moral of this story Is be good but carry a stick.
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Sometimes it looks like a guitar picker just can't tell what to pick.
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He was Frankie's man, and he still ain't done her wrong
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