If you'll gather 'round me, children
A story I will tell
'Bout Pretty Boy Floyd, an outlaw
Oklahoma knew him well

Was in Oklahoma city... (Nope.)

It was in the town of Shawnee
On a Saturday afternoon
His wife beside him in his wagon
As into town they rode
A deputy sheriff approached him
In a manner rather rude
With vulgar words of language
That miss Floyd overheard

Well pretty Boy grabbed a log chain
The deputy grabbed his gun;
And in the fight that followed
He laid that deputy down

He took to the trees and timbers
To lead a life of shame;
Every crime in Oklahoma
Was added to his name
He took to the trees and timbers
Down by the river shore
But pretty boy found found a welcome
At every farmer's door
There's a many a starving family
The same old story told
How the outlaw paid the mortgage
And saved their little homes
Others tell of a stranger
Who come to beg a meal
And underneath the napkin
Slipped a thousand dollar bill

Was in Oklahoma City
Upon one Christmas Day
Come a whole car load of groceries
With a note to say:
Well, you say that I'm an outlaw
You say I am a thief
Well here's a Christmas dinners
For the families on relief

Now, as through this world you ramble
There's seen lots of funny men;
Some will rob you with a six-gun
Some with a fountain pen
Now, as through this world you ramble
As through this world you roam
You won't ever find an outlaw
Drive a family from it's home