Lyrics

On the train to Folkston had to leave my girl behind,
She fell deathly ill on the Charlton county line,
She took her last breath I wrote her dear name in the sand,
I put her down in the ground with an acorn in her hand,
Now the wind blows thru her branches you can hear her crying out,
When you're riding down to Folkston headed south ,
We were headed west to build our house on laurel hill,
But I stuck around cuttin pines at the turpentine mill,
I came around where I laid her her down now a tree begins to grow,
Where I held her hand and promised I would never let her go,
Now the wind blows thru her branches you can hear her crying out,
When you're riding down to Folkston headed South