Peter Yarrow - Stewball lyrics

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