If you'll gather 'round me, children
A story I will tell
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
An' his wife she overheard

Pretty Boy grabbed a log chain and the deputy grabbed his gun
And in the fight that followed he laid that deputy down

There's a many a-starving farmers
The same old story told
How this outlaw paid their mortgage
And saved their little homes

Others tell you of 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 was a whole carload of groceries
With a letter that did say

"Well, 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 seen lots of funny men
Some will rob you with a six-gun
Some with a fountain pen

But as through your life you travel
And as through your life you roam
You won't ever see an outlaw
Drive a family from their home Writer/s: Woody Guthrie
Publisher: BMG Rights Management
Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind