Song | Pretty Boy Floyd |
Artist | Woody Guthrie |
Album | House of the rising sun |
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 |
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 sixgun | |
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 |