If you'll gather 'round me, people
A story I will tell
'Bout Pretty Boy Floyd, an outlaw
Oklahoma knew him well
It was in the town of Shawnee
On a Saturday afternoon
His wife beside him in a wagon
As into town they rode
There a deputy sheriff approached him
In a manner rather rude
Using vulgar words of language
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
Now, he took to the hills and timber
To live a life of shame
Every crime in Oklahoma
Was added to his name
He took to the trees and timber
On the Canadian river shore
And pretty Boy found a welcome
At every farmer's door
Others tell you of a stranger
That come to beg a meal
And underneath the napkin
Left a thousand dollar bill
T'was in Oklahoma City
It was on a Christmas Day
There come a whole car load of groceries
And a letter that did say:
You say that I'm an outlaw
You say that I'm a thief
Well, here's a Christmas dinner
For the families on relief
Well, it's through this world I've rambled
I've seen lots of funny men
Some will rob you with a six-gun
And some with a fountain pen
Well, it's through this world you ramble
It's through this world you roam
You won't never see an outlaw
Drive a family from their home
Pretty Boy Floyd Lyrics performed by Bob Dylan are property and copyright of the authors, artists and labels. You should note that Pretty Boy Floyd Lyrics performed by Bob Dylan is only provided for educational purposes only and if you like the song you should buy the CD