Written by Woody Guthrie



Well gather round children, a story I will tell

About Pretty Boy Floyd the outlaw, Oklahoma knew him well



Was in the town of Shawnee on a Saturday afternoon

His wife beside him in a wagon as into town they rode



And along come a deputy sheriff in a manner rather rude

Using vulgar words of language and his wife she overheard



And Pretty Boy Floyd grabbed a long chain, and the deputy grabbed a gun

And in the fight that followed, he laid that deputy down



Then he ran through the trees and bushes and lived a life of shame

Every crime in Oklahoma was added to his name



He ran through trees and bushes on the Canadian River shore

And many a starving farmer opened up his door



It was in Oklahoma City, It was on a Christmas Day

A whole carload of groceries and a letter that did say



Well you say that I'm an outlaw, you say that I'm a thief

Well, here's a Christmas dinner for the families on relief



As through this life you travel, you meet some funny men

Some rob you with a six-gun, some with a fountain pen



As through this life you ramble, as through this life you roam

You'll never see an outlaw take a family from their home

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