Stewball - Peter, Paul and Mary

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

but the worth of his saddle

has never been told

Oh the fairgrounds were crowded

and old 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

and 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