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 wine