Old Stewball was a racehorse
And I wish he were mine
He never drank water
He always drank wine
His bridal was silver
His mane it was gold
And the worth of his saddle
Has never been told
Oh the fairgrounds were crowded
And Stewball was there
But the betting was heavy
On the bay and the mare
And away up yonder
Ahead of them all
Came a prancin' and a dancin'
My noble Stewball
I bet on the gray mare
I bet on the bay
If I'd a bet on old Stewball
I'd be a free man today
Oh the hoot owl she hollered
And the turtle dove moaned
I'm a poor boy in trouble
I'm a long way from home
Old Stewball was a racehorse
And I wish he were mine
He never drank water
He always drank wine
Lyrics provided by LRCLIB
