Lyrics Pretty Boy - Joan Baez

Pretty Boy

If you’ll gather 'round me, children
A story I will tell
'Bout Pretty Boy Floyd, an outlaw
Oklahoma knew him well
It was in the town of Shawnee
A Saturday afternoon
His wife beside him in his wagon
As into town they rode
There a deputy sheriff approached him
In a manner rather rude
Vulgar words of anger
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
Then he took to the trees and timber
Along the river shore
Hiding on the river bottom
And he never come back no more
Yes, he took to the trees and timber
To live a life of shame
Every crime in Oklahoma
Was added to his name
But a many a starvin' farmer
The same old story told
How the outlaw paid their mortgage
And saved their little homes
Others tell you 'bout a stranger
That come to beg a meal
Underneath his napkin
Left a thousand-dollar bill
It was in Oklahoma City
It was on a Christmas Day
There was a whole car load of groceries
Come with a note to say
«Well, you say that I’m an outlaw
You say that I’m a thief
Here’s a Christmas dinner
For the families on relief»
Yes, as through this world I’ve wandered
I’ve seen lots of funny men
Some will rob you with a six-gun
And some with a fountain pen
And as through your life you travel
Yes, as through your life you roam
You won’t never see an outlaw
Drive a family from their home