Stewball

Written by：Mary Travers/Milt Okun/Noel Stookey/Elena Mezzetti

Oh Stewball was a racehorse

And I wish he were mine

He never drank water

He always drank wine

His bridle 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 a way up yonder

Ahead of them all

Came a prancin' and a dancin'

My noble Stewball

I bet on the grey mare

I bet on the bay

If I'd have bet on ol' 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

Oh Stewball was a racehorse

And I wish he were mine

He never drank water

He always drank wine