From the recording Bare Bones

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Frankie, Me 'n Johnny

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8) Frankie, Me ‘n Johnny - m.litton

Waitin’ for a train one day, I bought an old man a beer
He said, “Thank ya son, cause I’m been dry near a week
Been travelin’ up from Mexico, ain’t been home in years
But I’ve got along and I’ve seen enough to last me
And I know it don’t show, but there was once a time
When Frankie, me ‘n Johnny stopped
The Germans on the Rhine

Chorus: And Frankie was lucky at the horses
Johnny was lucky with the cards
And I’s lucky with the women
But our luck only ran so far

We had seafood every morning
Live shrimp in our beer
Wouldn’t have traded the world for a pinup girl
We’d rather given a whore our ear

On a chain gang down in Texas
We killed the boss who wore silver spurs
We kept the silver ‘n buried him ‘neath the thistles
Served our time out on the road
Runnin’ from them hounds like birds
When we wanted a pretty woman we’d just whistle
Well churchmen talk of good ‘n evil
To me it was always gray
You can walk the ditch or take the road
Both lead to the same ol’ grave

You get the red light on the street
The green light at their door
The candle light when their man’s away
The caution light when he’s home

Moonlight on the river, riverboats in my dreams
The odds on hearts are thirty-six to one
I loved a woman from St. Louie
She drove a long black limousine
Love was roulette played on her green carpet lawn
And she always drank Red Label
She had the voice of a saxophone
But when she fell for that pretty man from New Orleans
The next morning I was gone

I’s a sailor for the banker’s daughter
I gambled for the grocer’s wife
They didn’t rope me down, I’s a Gypsy clown
I didn’t peel potatoes all my life

Bootleggin’ in the ‘30s, runnin’ them back country roads
Crossin’ the Canada border one late winter night
When the shot ‘n smoke had cleared
Frankie ‘n Johnny lay cold
And I’s down the river swimmin’ ‘neath the ice
Now those days are just a song
And they can’t be played for a nickel
Death is my dancin’ partne, my life’s a vicious ol’ fiddle

With a Jack ‘n a Queen bid two
With an Ace ‘n a Deuce bid three
But if ya shoot the moon you’re all alone
And you just might need a priest