1-4-5 akordy ^{D, G, A} If you'll 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 On a Sunday afternoon His wife beside him in their wagon As into town they rode. There a deputy sheriff approached them In a manner rather rude Using vulgar words of language And his wife she overheard. Well Pretty Boy grabbed a long chain And the deputy grabbed his gun And in the fight that followed He laid that deputy down. Well he took to the trees and timber To live a life of shame Every crime in Oklahoma Was added to his name. Yes he took to the trees and timber By that Canadian river shore But Pretty Boy found a welcome At many a farmer's door. Yes there's many a starving farmer The same old story's told How that outlaw paid his mortgage And saved their little home. Others tell you of a stranger That came to beg a meal And underneath his napkin Left a thousand dollar bill. It was in Oklahoma city It was on a Christmas Day There came a whole carload of groceries With a letter that did say. "Well, they say that I'm an outlaw They say that I'm a thief Well here's a Christmas dinner For the families on relief". Now as through this life I've rambled I've seen lots of funny men Some will rob you with a six-gun And some with a fountain pen. But as through this world you ramble And as through this world you roam You won't never find an outlaw That'd drive a family from their home.