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.