Woody Guthrie Stewball Lyrics

Stewball was a good horse And he held a high head And the mane on his foretop Was fine as silk thread I rode him in England And I rode him in Spain And I never did lose, boys I always did gain So come all you gamblers From near and from far Don't bet your gold dollar On that little grey mare Most likely she will stumble Most likely she'll fall But you never will lose On my noble Stewball Sit tight on your saddle Let slack on your rein And you never will lose boys, You always will gain As they were a-riding 'Bout halfway 'round That grey mare she stumbled And fell to the ground And 'way out yonder Ahead of them all Came dancin' and prancin' My noble Stewball Stewball was a good horse And he held a high head And the mane on his foretop Was fine as silk thread I rode him in England And I rode him in Spain And I never did lose, boys I always did gain

2106d30e306f575b88c50418579ed58d