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If you'll gather 'ro?..und me, children, a story I will tell,
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'bout Pretty Boy Floyd, an outlaw, Oklahoma knew him well.
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It was in the to??wn of Shawnee, it was Saturday afternoon,
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his wife beside him in his wagon as into town they rode.
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There a deputy sher?iff approached him in a manner rather rude,
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using vulgar words of language, an' his wife she overheard.
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Pretty Boy grabbed a log chain, and the deputy grabbed his gun,
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in the fight that followed he laid that deputy down.
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Then he took to the trees and timber to live a life of shame,
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every crime in Oklahoma was added to his name.
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But there?s many a sta?.rving farmer, the same old story told,
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how this outlaw paid their mortgage and saved their little homes.
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Others tell you o??f a stranger that comes to beg a meal,
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and underneath his napkin left a thousand dollar bill.
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It was in Oklaho??ma City, it was on a Christmas Day,
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there come a whole car load of groceries with a letter that did say:
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?Well, you say that I'm an outlaw, you say that I'm a thief,
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here's a Christmas dinner for the families on relief.?
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Now, as through this wo??.rld I ramble, I see lots of funny men,
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some will rob you with a six-gun, some with a fountain pen.
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But as through your life you travel, and as through your life you roam,
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you will never see an outlaw drive a family from their home.