Collected by Parler Sam Kirby
In Folklore class January 14, 1960
Reel 355, Item 6
Pretty Boy Floyd
(I'm going to sing you an outlaw ballad that I learned from my
cousin when I was working out on my aunt's farm — or ranch, or
whatever you want to call it — in North Little Rock.)
If you'll gather round me, children,
A story I will tell,
About Pretty Boy Floyd, an outlaw —
Oklahoma knew him well.
It was in the town of Shawnee,
A good thirty afternoon,
His wife beside him in his wagon As into town they rode,
The deputy sheriff approached him In a manner rather rude,
Using vulgar words of language And his wife she over-heard.
Pretty Boy grabbed a knife then,
The deputy grabbed his gun,
And in the fight that followed,
He laid that deputy down.
The deputy sheriff ---
He'd live a life of shame.
Every crime in Oklahoma was added Was added to his name.
Now there's many a farmer in --
The same old story told,
How this outlaw paid the mortgage And saved their little home.
Others tell you if the stranger That come to beg a meal,
And underneath the napkin Left a thousand dollar bill.
It was in Oklahoma City It was on a Christmas Day,
There come a whole car-load of groceries And a letter that did say:
-moreReel 355, Item 6 Pretty Boy Floyd Continued
You say that I'm an outlaw,
You say that I'm a thief,
Now here's a Christmas dinner For the families on relief.
Now it'd through this world I've rambled, I've met lots of funny men,
Some will rob you with a six-gun And some with a fountain pen.
It's through your life you ramble,
As through your life you roam,
You won't never see an outlaw Drive a family from their home.
Click tabs to swap between content that is broken into logical sections.