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It was down by the Forkett Stream out in Sycamore Holler
I went down in my best of dress to take her from her father
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With hair down to her waist the color of strawberries
Down by the Forkett Stream by nightfall we would marry
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I sure loved the farmer's daughter back in Sycamore Holler
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On a horse seventeen hands high he rode in Sherman's army
To Atlanta town against her will he took my woman from me
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Well I grabbed my knife and both of my guns and a loud four-sided car
On a lightning horse I swore once more as I left Sycamore Holler
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I will bring the farmer's daughter back to Sycamore Holler
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It was down by the river's edge I see the campfire flicker
Four dead men lay behind as I leave that campsite wither
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Now our children play in the Forkett Stream out in Sycamore Holler
A boy like me a girl like her will always be together
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I sure loved the farmer's daughter back in Sycamore Holler
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