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.