Bob Dylan - Pretty Boy Floyd

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