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"We'll take it a bit slower" |
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"This is, this is the, huh, this is the first song I ever learned, actually" |
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Frankie and Johnny were sweethearts |
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Lordy, how they could love |
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Swore to be true to each other |
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Yeah, true to the skies above |
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He was her man, wouldn't do her no wrong |
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And Frankie and Johnny went walkin' |
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And Johnny had on a new suit |
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Yeah, Frankie spent one-hundred dollar notes |
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Just to make her man look cute |
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He was her man, he wouldn't do her no wrong |
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Frankie went over to the barroom |
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Stopped for a bottle of beer |
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Said to the old bartender man |
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"Has my lover Johnny man been here?" |
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"He was my man, Lord, but he'd been doin' me wrong, so wrong." |
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Yeah, Frankie looked over the transom door |
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And there to her great surprise |
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There sat her lover man Johnny |
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Makin' love to Nellie Bly |
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He was her man, but he was doin' her wrong |
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Well, Frankie lifted up her kimono dress |
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And she drew (ladaladalala) out a little .44 |
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She shot once, twice, three times (three times) she shot him |
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And through that hardwood (door) floor |
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Yeah, she shot her man (yeah he was her man) |
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Well, but he been doin' her wrong yeah |
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He said," roll me over so careful ah |
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Roll me over so slow, |
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Oh roll me off to my left hand side, |
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Because your bullet hurt me so, |
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I was your man, but I been doin' you wrong." |
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Play it Chris! |
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(Instrumental & trombone & guitar solo) |
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Well, they sent for Frankie's mother |
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Come down to Huddie's saloon |
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To see what's the matter with her boy |
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She come down, Frankie looked up at her |
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Here what she said: |
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She said, "Oh Mrs. Johnson, oh forgive me please |
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Well I killed your lovin' son, Johnny |
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But I'm down on my bended knee |
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I shot your man, 'cause he was doin' me wrong ah'. |
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She said, "I'll forgive you Frankie, |
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She said, I'll forgive you not, not |
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For killin' lovin' son Johnny, |
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He's the only support that I've got, |
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'Lord, you shot my man and he was doin' you wrong." |
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Well, the last time I seen Frankie |
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She was a-sittin' in a dungeon cell |
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She would be there lonely, herself |
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With no one there to care |
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She shot her man, a-he'd been doin' her wrong, so wrong |
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Well, bring out the rubber tired (hearse) so long |
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You gotta bring out your pony and trap |
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Yeah, they're gonna take Johnny, Johnny to the cemetery (graveyard) |
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And he ain't never coming back |
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Well, he was her man |
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Oh, but he been doin' her wrong, so wrong |
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Well, the story ain't got no moral, Lordy |
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But the story ain't got no end |
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Well, the story only goes to show |
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That there ain't no damn good in men! |
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She shot her man (he was her man) |
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But he was doin' her wrong |
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Yeah, ba-da-ba-ba-da-ba-ba-da-ba-ba-ba-ba. |
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Woo |
