Pretty Boy Floyd Woody Guthrie* - also by Bob Dylan, Kinky Friedman If you’ll gather ‘round me, children, a story I will tell About Pretty Boy Floyd the outlaw, Oklahoma knew him well Twas in the town of Shawnee on a Saturday afternoon His wife beside him in the 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 Floyd grabbed a log chain, the deputy grabbed his gun And in the fight that followed, he laid the 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 Yes, he took to the river bottom along the Canadian river shore And Pretty Boy found a welcome at every farmer’s door The papers said that Pretty Boy had robbed a bank each day While he was setting in some farmhouse 300 miles away There’s many a starving farmer the same old story told How the 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, he left a thousand dollar bill Twas in Oklahoma City, twas on a Christmas day There came a whole carload of groceries with a letter to 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 Yes, as through this world I’ve rambled, I’ve seen lots of funny men Some will rob you with a six gun, some with fountain pen But as through your live you’ll travel, wherever you may roam You won’t never see no outlaw drive a family from their home * as recorded on   alles-uke.de