Pretty Boy Floyd

If you’ll gather ‘round me children
A story I will tell
Of Pretty Boy Floyd an outlaw
Oklahoma knew him well.
It was in the town of Shawnee
It was Saturday afternoon
His wife beside him in his wagon
As into town they rode.
There a deputy sheriff approached him
In a manner rather rude
Using vulgar words of language
And his wife she overheard.
Pretty Boy grabbed a log chain
And the deputy grabbed a gun
And in the fight that followed
He laid that deputy down.
He took to the trees and timbers
And he lived a life of shame
Every crime in Oklahoma was added to his name
Yes, he took to the trees and timbers
On that Canadian River’s shore
And Pretty Boy found a welcome
At a many a farmer’s door.
There’s a many a starving farmer
The same old story told
How this outlaw paid their mortgage
And saved their little home.
Others tell you ‘bout a stranger
That come to beg a meal
And underneath his napkin
Left a thousand dollar bill.
It was in Oklahoma City
It was on a Christmas Day
There come a whole car load of groceries
With a letter that did say:
You say that I’m an outlaw
You say that I’m a thief
Here’s a Christmas dinner
For the families on relief.
Now as through this world I ramble
I see lots of funny men
Some will rob you with a Six gun
And some with a fountain pen.
But as through your life you travel
As through your life you roam
You won’t never see an outlaw
Drive a family from their home.