Intro :
Stewball was a good hors e, he wore his hea d high,
and the mane on his fore top, was f ine as silk threa d.
I rode him in Englan d, I rode him i n Spain,
and I never did lose , boys, I always did gain.
So come all you gamble rs, wherever yo u are,
and don t bet your mone y on that little grey mare.
Most likely she ll stumb le, most likely she l l fall,
but never you ll lose , boys, on my noble Stewball.
As they were a- ridin g, bout halfwa y round,
that grey mare she stum bled, and fell on the groun d.
And way out yonde r, ahead of the m all,
came a-prancing and a- danc ing, my no ble Stewball.
Stewball was a race hors e, and by the day he wa s mine,
he never drank wate r, he alwa ys drank wine.