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
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