Lyr. Add: FRANKIE AND JOHNNY (Gordon MS)

Frankie and Johnny were lovers,
So everybody knew,
She was his lovin' sweetheart-
My God, how that gal could screw.
He was her man, and she treated him square.

Frankie took care of her Johnny,
She gave him a gold watch and chain,
She staked his crap games in Frisco
And fed him until luck came again.
For he was her man, and she loved him true.

Johnny chased the other women,
Took to chasin' Alice Fry,
While Frankie sat and waited,
Not thinkin' her Johnny'd lie.
For he was her man, and she tho't he was square.

One day in Doc Shehan's Alley,
A friend to Frankie said,
Your Johnny-boy's a gash-hound,
Sportin' on a whore house bed.
He is your man, but he's doin' you wrong.

Frankie went down to the whore house,
She rang that whore house bell,-
Stand aside you pimps and whores,
Or I'll blow you all to hell.
He is my man and he's doin' me wrong.

Frankie looked over the transom,
Goddam your soul, I'll shoot!
And she pulled her forty-five-
The Colt went rooty-toot-toot!
For he was her man, an he was doin' her wrong.

She shot him once, she shot him twice,
Hit the middle of his big black ass;
The whores and pimps huddled there,
Waitin' for his soul to pass.
For he was her man, and he was doin' her wrong.

Johnny got shot in the ass hole,
He saw his life-blood flow,-
Lord a'mighty, sweetheart gal,
An ass full of lead hurts so.
But I was your man, and I done you wrong.

Turn me over easy, Oh, Lord!
Turn me over slow, oh!
Lord God a'mighty, boys,
It hurts to turn me, oh!
I was her man, and I done her wrong.

And Johnny said to the pimps and whores
Who gathered 'round his side,
I double-crossed my lovin' gal-
Then wiggled his ass and died.
He was her man, but he done her wrong.

Silver-handled, plush-lined casket,
A rubber-tired hack,
Takin' Johnny to the graveyard,
And bringin' nothin' back.
For he was her man, and he done her wrong.

Vance Randolph, 1992, "Roll Me In Your Arms, "'Unprintable' Ozark Folksongs and Folklore," vol. 1, no. 153, pp. 477-484, Univ. Arkansas Press. MS apparently supplied from Cornell Univ., in 1931, "by the hobo-song specialist, Godfrey Owen, who said he heard it on a ranch near Boise, ID, between 1912-1912."