Lyrics to Pretty Boy Floyd
(W. 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
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
Songwriters: WOODY GUTHRIE
Publisher: Lyrics © BUG MUSIC
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Publisher: Lyrics © BUG MUSIC
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