Stewball - The Hollies

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