PRETTY BOY FLOYD (Testo e musica di Woody Guthrie) 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 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, Using vulgar words of anger And his wife, she overheard. Pretty Boy grabbed a long chain, And the deputy grabbed his gun, And in the fight that followed He laid that deputy down. Then 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 this outlaw paid their mortgage, And saved their little homes. 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 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. Da: "Woody Guthrie Songbook" Woody Guthrie > canzoni > Dust Bowl Ballads