| Well gather 'round me children, a story I will tell
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| About Pretty Boy Floyd the outlaw, Oklahoma knew him well
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| It was in the town of Shawnee on a Saturday afternoon
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| His wife beside him in the wagon as into town they rode
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| Then along came the deputy sheriff in a manner rather rude
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| Using vulgar words of language, his wife she overheard
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| Then Pretty Boy grabbed a long chain and the deputy grabbed a gun
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| And in the fight that followed he laid that deputy down
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| Then he ran to the trees and bushes to live a life of shame
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| Every crime in Oklahoma was added to his name
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| He ran to the trees and bushes on the Canadian river shore
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| And many a starving farming opened up his door
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| It was in Oklahoma City, it was on a Christmas day
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| A whole carload of groceries with a letter that did say
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| 'You say that I’m an outlaw, you say that I’m a thief '
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| 'Well here’s a Christmas dinner for the families on relief'
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| As through this life you travel you meet some funny men
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| Some will rob you with a six gun and some with a fountain pen
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| As through this life you ramble, as through this life you roam
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| You’ll never see an outlaw take a family from their home |