Old Stewball was a race horse, 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 away up yonder Ahead of them all Came a-prancin’ and a-dancin’ My noble Stewball I bet on the gray mare, And I bet on the bay. If I'd bet on old Stewball, I'd be a free man today. Oh, the hoot owl, she holler And the turtledove moan. I'm a poor boy in trouble, A long way from home. Repeat 1st verse. Play When playing in lift 2nd finger to open E-string, and extend pinky to 11th fret to embellish. When playing drop pinky to 9th, then 8th then open twice in the strum pattern to embellish
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