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
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
Comments (0)
The minimum comment length is 50 characters.