Lyrics

If you'll gather 'round me, children A story I will tell 'Bout Pretty Boy Floyd, an outlaw Oklahoma knew him well It was in the town of Shawnee A 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 Vulgar words of anger An' his wife, she overheard Pretty Boy grabbed a log chain And the deputy grabbed his gun In the fight that followed He laid that deputy down Then he took to the trees and timber To live a life of shame Every crime in Oklahoma Was added to his name But a-many a-starving farmer The same old story told How the outlaw paid their mortgage And saved their little homes Others tell you 'bout a stranger That come to beg a meal Underneath his napkin Left a thousand-dollar bill It was in Oklahoma City It was on a Christmas Day There was a whole car load of groceries Come with a note to 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" Yes, as through this world I've wandered I've seen lots of funny men Some will rob you with a six-gun And some with a fountain pen And as through your life you travel Yes, as through your life you roam You won't never see an outlaw Drive a family from their home
Writer(s): Woody Guthrie Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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