The Saga of Frankie & Johnny

When a youth I learned the song of "Frankie and Johnny" from a colored piano player, who was called "Professor" in a parlor house. The parlor house was owned and run by a lady who was called Madam Helen Blazes. You may conclude that mine was a misspent youth, but the knowing of these ladies and the houses that they ran has enabled me to fashion these woodcuts from fond memories.

The engraving of these blocks has taken many hours and a strong right arm, but in doing them I have lived again a wild free existence in an Inter-Rocky Mountain settlement with my friends the whores, the pimps, the gamblers, the hop-heads and lenient police, who used to know "The Mormon Kid."

I

Come gather round me, old timers,

Come gather round me, I say.

I'll tell you the story of Frankie and Johnny

Who loved their life away.

For he was her man, and he done her wrong.

II

Frankie and Johnny were lovers.

Oh, my God, how they could love.

They swore to be true to each other,

True as the stars above.

For he was her man, and he done her wrong.

III

Frankie worked down in the crib house,

Worked there without any drawers.

She gave all her money to Johnny,

Who spent it on parlor-house whores.

For he was her man, and he done her wrong.

IV

Frankie and Johnny were lovers,

Just like every one knows.

Frankie gave her Johnny a hundred dollars

To buy a new suit of clothes.

For he was her man, and he done her wrong.

V

Frankie and Johnny went walking,

Johnny in his brand new suit,

"Oh, my gawd," said Frankie,

"Don't my Johnny look eute?"

For he was her man, and he done her wrong.

VI

Frankie went up to Ogden.

She went on the morning train.

She gave her Johnny a hundred dollars,

To buy a watch and chain.

For he was her man, and he done her wrong.

VII

Frankie went down to the corner,

To get her a big glass of beer.

She said to the big fat bar-tender,

"Has my lovin' Johnny been here?

For he is my man, the he does me wrong."

VIII

Then up spoke the big fat bar-tender.

Said, "Frankie, I'll tell you no lie.

Your Johnny was here just a minute ago,

With a blonde named Nelly Bly.

If he is your man, well he's doing you wrong."

IX

Frankie went down to the hock shop.

She bought her a big forty-four;

She aimed a shot at the ceiling,

And shot a hole in the floor.

For he was her man, and he was doin' her wrong.

X

Frankie went back to the corner.

This time it wasn't for fun.

Sewed up in her yellow kimono

Was a blue-barrelled forty-four gun.

For he was her man, and he done her wrong.

XI

Frankie went up to the parlor-house,

She rang on the parlor-house bell.

"Get out of my way, all you pimps and chippies.

Or I'll blow you all to Hell.

For he is my man, and he's doin' me wrong."

XII

Frankie went up to the hop-joint,

She looked in the window so high.

There on a bed was her Johnny

Lovin' up Nelly Bly.

But he was her man, tho he'd done her wrong.

XIII

Johnny ran down the back stairway

Crying, "Frankie, for God's sake, don't shoot!"

But Frankie unlimbered her big forty-four,

And the gun went root-i-toot-toot.

For he was her man, and he'd done her wrong.

XIV

"Turn me over so gently.

Oh, turn me over so slow.

Turn me over to the right side,

So the bullet won't hurt me so.

For I was her man, and I done her wrong."

XV

Frankie knelt down at the coffin.

She looked down at Johnny's face.

She said, "God have mercy upon me,

I wish I could take his place.

For he was my man, tho he done me wrong."

XVI

"Call out your rubber-tired hearses,

Call out your rubber-tired hacks.

They're taking poor Johnny to the graveyard,

And they ain't going to bring him back.

For he was my man, and he done me wrong."

XVII

"Oh, bring on a thousand policemen,

Bring them around today.

Oh, lock me up in a dungeon,

And throw the keys away.

For he was my man, and he done me wrong."

XVIII

The sheriff came around in the morning,

Said, "Frankie, it's all for the best."

He said, "Your pimp Johnny

Was nothin' but a God-damned pest.

For he was your man, and he done you wrong."

XIX

Frankie she said to the warden,

"What will the verdict be?"

And the warden, he said to Frankie,

"It's murder in the third degree.

For you shot your man, cause he done you wrong."

XX

"I didn't shoot him in the first degree.

I didn't shoot him in the last.

I didn't shoot him in the third degree.

I shot him in the ass.

For he was my man, and he done me wrong."

XXI

The judge, he said to the jury,

"It's plain as plain can be.

This woman shot her lover.

It's murder in the third degree.

For he was her man, and he done her wrong."

XXII

Frankie, she mounted the scaffold,

As calm as a young girl can be,

And turning her eyes to Heaven,

Said, "Sweet God, I'm coming to Thee.

For he was my man, and he done me wrong."

XXIII

This story has no moral.

This story has no end.

This story only goes to show

You can't trust no God-damned men.

For he was her man, and he done her wrong.

Ill tell you the Story of Frankie and Johnnie who loved their life away

Frankie worked down in a Crib-House

Gave her Johnny a hundred dollars to buy a New Suit of Clothes

Then up spoke the big fat Bartender

In her yellow Kimona was a Blue Barreled forty four gun

There on a bed was her Johnny Alovin' up Nelly Blye

And the Gun Went Root-I-Toot-Toot

O Lord have Mercy on me I wish I could take his Place

Lock me in that Dungeon and throw the key away

I didn't shoot him in the third degree I shot him in the ASS

The Judge said to the jury its plain as plain can be

This story only goes to show you can trust no goodamned men