Pretty Boy Floyd - Joan Baez

If you’ll gather 'round me, children

A story I will tell

'Bout Pretty Boy Floyd, an outlaw

Oklahoma knew him well

It was in the town of Shawnee

A Saturday afternoon

His wife beside him in his wagon

As into town they rode

There a deputy sheriff approached him

In a manner rather rude

Vulgar words of anger

An' his wife she overheard

Pretty Boy grabbed a log chain

And the deputy grabbed his gun

In the fight that followed

He laid that deputy down

Then he took to the trees and timber

Along the river shore

Hiding on the river bottom

And he never come back no more

Yes, he took to the trees and timber

To live a life of shame

Every crime in Oklahoma

Was added to his name

But a many a starvin' farmer

The same old story told

How the outlaw paid their mortgage

And saved their little homes

Others tell you 'bout a stranger

That come to beg a meal

Underneath his napkin

Left a thousand-dollar bill

It was in Oklahoma City

It was on a Christmas Day

There was a whole car load of groceries

Come with a note to say

«Well, you say that I’m an outlaw

You say that I’m a thief

Here’s a Christmas dinner

For the families on relief»

Yes, as through this world I’ve wandered

I’ve seen lots of funny men

Some will rob you with a six-gun

And some with a fountain pen

And as through your life you travel

Yes, as through your life you roam

You won’t never see an outlaw

Drive a family from their home