Lyrics:

Guthrie

Come gather round me children,
A story I will tell
About Pretty Boy Floyd the outlaw,
Oklahoma knew him well.
It was in the town of Shawnee,
It was 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 grabbed a log chain
And the deputy grabbed a gun
And in the fight that followed
He laid that deputy down.
Then he took to the trees and timbers
And he lived a life of shame,
Every crime in Oklahoma
Was added to his name.
Yes he took to the trees and timbers
On that Canadian River's shore
And Pretty Boy found a welcome
At many a farmer's door.
There's many a starving farmer
The same old story told
How the outlaw paid their mortgage
And saved their little home.
Mothers tell you 'bout a stranger
That came to beg a meal
And underneath his napkin
Left a thousand dollar bill.
Now as through the world I ramble
I see lots of funny men
Some will rob you with a six-gun
Some with a fountain pen.
But as through life you travel,
Yes, as through life you roam,
You'll never see an outlaw
Drive a family from their home.