Stewball

(yellin / rinzler / herald)

Old stewball was a racehorse

And i wished he were mine

He never drank water

He always drank wine



His bridle was silver

And his mane it was gold

But worth of his saddle

Has never been told



The fairgrounds was crowded

And old stewball was there

But the betting was heavy

On the bay and the mare



Oh, way up yonder

Ahead of them all

Came prancing and dancing

My noble stewball



If i bet on the grey mare

And i bet on the bay

And if i'd bet on old stewball

I'd be a free man today



Oh, the hoot owl she hollers

And the turtle dove moans

I'm a poor boy in trouble

I'm a long way from home



Old stewball was a racehorse

And i wished he was mine

He never drank water

He always drank wine


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