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 wineTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.