Pretty Boy Floyd Bob Dylan

If you'll gather 'round me, people
A story, I will tell
About 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
And in the fight that followed
He laid that deputy down

Now, he took to the hills and timber
To live the 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