Текст песни Pretty Boy Floyd (Live 1964) - Paul Simon

Come gather ′round me children
Here's a story I will tell
′Bout Pretty Boy Floyd an outlaw
Oklahoma knew him well

Well, was in the town of Shawnee
On a Saturday afternoon
His wife beside him in his wagon
While into town he rode

Well, a deputy sheriff approached him
In a manner rather rude
Using vulgar words of language
And his wife she overheard

Well, Pretty Boy grabbed a shotgun
And the deputy grabbed a knnife
And in the fight that followed
Well, he shot that deputy down

Then he took to the hills and the rivers
To live a life of shame
Every crime in Oklahoma
Was added to his name

And he took to the hills and the rivers
On the Canadian River shore
And the outlaw found a welcome
At many a farmer's door

Well, there's a many a lonesome farmer
So the story goes
That the outlaw paid his mortgage
And he saved his little home

′Twas in Oklahoma City
It was on a Christmas Day
Came a whole car load of groceries
And a letter that did say

Well, you say that I′m an outlaw
And you say that I'm a thief
Well, here′s a Christmas dinner
For the families on relief

And as through this world you ramble
And as through this world you roam
Will you never see an outlaw
Drive a family from their home

And as through this world I wandered
I met lots of funny men
Some rob you with their six-guns
Some with a fountain pen