it was down by the forked stream out in sycamore holler i went down in my best of dress to take her from her father with hair down to her waist the color of strawberries down by the forked stream by night fall we would marry i sure love the farmer s daughter back in sycamore holler on a horse seventeen hands high he rode in sherman s army to atlanta town against her will he took my woman from me well i grabbed my knife and both of my guns in a loud voice i did call her upon a lightning horse i swore once more as i left sycamore holler i will bring the farmer s daughter back to sycamore holler it was down by the river s edge i see the campfire flicker four dead men lay behind as i leave that campsite with her now our children play in a forked stream out in sycamore holler with a boy like me and a girl like her we ll always be together i sure love the farmer s daughter down in sycamore holler