Oh Stewball was a racehorse
And I wish he were mine
He never drank water
He always drank wineHis bridle was silver
His mane, it was gold
And the worth of his saddle
Has never been toldOh the fairgrounds were crowded
And Stewball was there
But the betting was heavy
On the bay and the mareAnd a-way up yonder
Ahead of them all
Came a-prancin' and a-dancin'
My noble StewballI bet on the grey mare
I bet on the bay
If I'd have bet on ol' Stewball
I'd be a free man todayOh the hoot owl, she holler
And the turtle dove moan
I'm a poor boy in trouble
I'm a long way from homeOh Stewball was a racehorse
And I wish he were mine
He never drank water
He always drank wine
Songwriters
RINZLER, RALPH C. / YELLIN, ROBERT A. / HERALD, JOHNPublished by
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group