Frankie and Johnny were lovers, oh Lordy how they could love.
They swore to be true to each other, true as the stars above.
He was her man, but he was doin’ her wrong.
Frankie and Johnny went walking, Johnny in his brand new suit.
Then “Oh good Lord,” says Frankie, “don’t my Johnny look real cute!”
He was her man, but he was doin’ her wrong.
Frankie she was a good woman, as everybody knows.
Spent a hundred dollars just to buy her man some clothes.
He was her man, but he was doin’ her wrong.
Frankie went down to the corner just for a bucket of beer,
She said to the fat bartender, “Has my loving Johnny been here?”
He was her man, but he was doin’ her wrong.
“I don’t want to tell you no stories, and I don’t want to tell you no lies,
But I saw your man about an hour ago with gal named Nellie Bly.
If he’s your man, he’s a-doin’ you wrong.”
Frankie went down to the hotel, didn’t go there for fun.
Underneath her kimono she carried a forty-four gun.
He was her man, but he was doin’ her wrong.
Frankie looked over the transom and found to her great surprise
There on the bed sat Johnny a-lovin’ up Nellie Bly.
He was her man, but he was doin’ her wrong.
Now the first time that Frankie shot Johnny he let out an awful yell.
Second time she shot him, there was a new man’s face in hell.
He was her man, but he was doin’ her wrong.
“Roll me over so easy, roll me over so slow,
Roll me over on the right side, ’cause the left side hurts me so.”
He was her man, but he was doin’ her wrong.
The judge said to the jury, “It’s as plain as plain can be.
This woman shot her lover, it’s murder in the second degree.
He was her man, tho’ he was doin’ her wrong.”
This story has no moral, this story has no end.
This story only goes to show that there ain’t no good in men.
They’ll do you wrong just as sure as you’re born.