| Song | Pretty Boy Floyd |
| Artist | Woody Guthrie |
| Album | House of the rising sun |
| 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 | |
| To live a life of shame | |
| Every crime in Oklahoma | |
| Was added to his name | |
| But a many a starving 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 |
| 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 | |
| To live a life of shame | |
| Every crime in Oklahoma | |
| Was added to his name | |
| But a many a starving 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 sixgun | |
| 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 |