баллада о Красавчике Флойде (написана в 1939 году)
Click to viewКрасавчик Флойд был известен тем, что во время ограблений банков разрывал договоры займа, избавляя, таким образом, сотни людей от долгов. На его похороны пришло 40 тысяч человек.
Written by Woody Guthrie
Well gather round children, a story I will tell
About Pretty Boy Floyd the outlaw, Oklahoma knew him well
Was in the town of Shawnee on a Saturday afternoon
His wife beside him in a wagon as into town they rode
And along come a deputy sheriff in a manner rather rude
Using vulgar words of language and his wife she overheard
And Pretty Boy Floyd grabbed a long chain, and the deputy grabbed a gun
And in the fight that followed, he laid that deputy down
Then he ran through the trees and bushes and lived a life of shame
Every crime in Oklahoma was added to his name
He ran through trees and bushes on the Canadian River shore
And many a starving farmer opened up his door
It was in Oklahoma City, It was on a Christmas Day
A whole carload of groceries and a letter that did say
Well you say that I'm an outlaw, you say that I'm a thief
Well, here's a Christmas dinner for the families on relief
As through this life you travel, you meet some funny men
Some rob you with a six-gun, some with a fountain pen
As through this life you ramble, as through this life you roam
You'll never see an outlaw take a family from their home.
UP.
Еще одна песня о Красавчике Флойде, спасибо kundry за ссылку.
I was raised in the Cookson Hills
Where the smoke gives away the stills,
And the old folks tell their stories to the young.
They talk about Pretty Boy whose real name was Charles Floyd,
And they say the first toy he played with was a gun.
CHORUS: But, everybody kept him hid
For the good things that he did,
'Cuase everybody was his friend in Sequoyah County.
In the year of '29, in the hard depression times,
Pretty Boy had a run-in with the law;
A handsome man at twenty-one he was friends with everyone
Except the man who owned the bank at Sallisaw.
It was early in the fall when a good man of the law
Lay dying where somebody shot him down.
Though the evidence was thin when they brought the verdict in,
They gave Pretty Boy fifteen long years in the pen.
In an Oklahoma town, Pretty Boy rolled and hit the ground
Through the window of the train that was prison bound.
Two long years was hit and miss and he was at the top of the list;
Pretty Boy made Enemy No. One.
On an Ohio farm, he took refuge in a barn
'Cause the law meant to do some harm
To Pretty Boy Floyd.
'Cross an open field he ran,
Why he did, we don't understand;
That's when death shook the hand of Pretty Boy Floyd.