The Three Fine Daughters of Farmer Brown

Breaking hearts in Halifax county,
The three fine daughters of farmer Brown.
Turning heads of the boys in the schoolyard,
Catching whistles from the men downtown.
No one knows why they went a-rowin',
The three fine daughters of farmer Brown.
They didn't know that the rocks on the river
(Would) be the three sisters island where they'd all drown.

Widower Brown had a girl named Nellie,
She was the oldest and toughest of three.
She would her daddy's well sharpened sickle
And carve "kill men" in the sycamore tree.
The men come-a-courtin', but she'd keep her distance,
Never cracked a smile just played it coy.
Some say she's as tender as a petal,
She'd act tough, 'cuz her daddy wanted a boy.

Old man Brown had a girl named Dottie,
The middle button, and the most vain of the three.
She'd take her daddy's fat leather boot strap
And whip anyone who'd call her Dorothy.
The men would fawn her and she would repay them,
And peck 'em where they'd find it safe to kiss
Like the barn, or the porch, or the upstairs parlor.
Anywhere that'd keep 'em from her father's fist.

Breaking hearts in Halifax county,
The three fine daughters of farmer Brown.
Turning heads of the boys in the schoolyard,
Catching whistles from the men downtown.
No one knows why they went a-rowin'
The three fine daughters of farmer Brown
They didn't know that the rocks on the river
(Would) be the three sisters island where they'd all drown.

Farmer Brown had a girl named Becca,
She was the youngest and most reverent of all.
She would take her daddy's King James bible
And go study scripture at the reverent hall.
The men would avoid her and she would condemn them
For cussin' and drinkin' and chasin' the Browns
She'd say "Repent, and join God forever.
The pleasure of sin's not as good as it sounds."

One day the three with nothing in common
Spied upon an abandoned row boat.
Maybe their sense of adventure had pushed
The three young girls to set the ship afloat.
They didn't know the strength of the river,
The merciless current that pulled them down.
Maybe it was the due to the weight of their denim,
But the three girls bodies were never found.

Some may recall the singing of the sirens,
Lurin' in the sailors who'd wreck and drown.
Some say they still hear the fightin' and
The flirtin' and the preachin'
Of the daughters of farmer Brown

Breaking hearts in Halifax county,
The three fine daughters of farmer Brown.
Turning heads of the boys in the schoolyard,
Catching whistles from the men downtown.
No one knows why they went a-rowin'
The three fine daughters of farmer Brown
They didn't know that the rocks on the river
(Would) be the three sisters island where they'd all drown.

The Three Fine Daughters of Farmer Brown is (c) Eddie From Ohio