Come gather round me people and a story I will tell,
About Pretty Boy Floyd the outlaw, Oklahoma knew him well.
In the town of Shawnee all on a Saturday afternoon,
With his wife beside him in the truck as into the town he rode.
There a deputy approached him in a manner very rude,
Using vulgar language that his wife she overheard.
Pretty Boy grabbed a log chain and the deputy grabbed his gun,
In the fight that followed he laid the deputy down.
He took to the woods and mountains of the Canadian river shore,
Pretty Boy found a welcome at many a poor farmer’s door.
He took to the woods and mountains and led a life of shame,
Every crime in Oklahoma was added to his name.
There is many starving farmer the same old story told,
How Pretty Boy paid their mortgage and saved their little homes.
More speak about a strange man who came to beg a meal,
And underneath his napkin left a thousand dollar bill.
In the town of Shawnee all on a Christmas day,
There came a car filled with groceries and a message that did say.
“You say I am an outlaw, you say I am a thief,
Here’s a Christmas dinner for the children on relief.”
As round the world I travel I’ve met all kinds of men,
Some rob you with a six gun, some with a fountain pen.
But as round the world I travel and round the world I roam,
I’ve yet to see an outlaw drive a family from their home.