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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 wagonAs into town they rode. There a deputy sheriff approached himIn 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 followedHe laid that deputy down. Then he took to the trees and timberTo live a life of shame;Every crime in OklahomaWas added to his name. But a many a starving farmerLetras de cancionesThe same old story toldHow the outlaw paid their mortgageAnd saved their little homes. Others tell you 'bout a strangerThat come to beg a meal,Underneath his napkinLeft a thousand dollar bill. It was in Oklahoma City,It was on a Christmas Day,There was a whole car load of groceriesCome with a note to say: Well, you say that I'm an outlaw,You say that I'm a thief.Here's a Christmas dinnerFor the families on relief. Yes, as through this world I've wanderedI'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 outlawDrive a family from their home. From Letras Mania