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Well gather round children, a story i will tell |
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About pretty boy floyd the outlaw, oklahoma knew him well |
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Was in the town of shawnee on a saturday afternoon |
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His wife beside him in a wagon as into town they rode |
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And along come a deputy sheriff in a manner rather rude |
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Using vulgar words of language and his wife she overheard |
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And pretty boy floyd grabbed a long chain, and the deputy grabbed a gun |
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And in the fight that followed, he laid that deputy down |
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Then he ran through the trees and bushes and lived a life of shame |
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Every crime in oklahoma was added to his name |
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He ran through trees and bushes on the canadian river shore |
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And many a starving farmer opened up his door |
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It was in oklahoma city, it was on a christmas day |
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A whole carload of groceries and a letter that did say |
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Well you say that i'm an outlaw, you say that i'm a thief |
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Well, here's a christmas dinner for the families on relief |
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As through this life you travel, you meet some funny men |
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Some rob you with a six-gun, some with a fountain pen |
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As through this life you ramble, as through this life you roam |
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You'll never see an outlaw take a family from their home |
