The Greenbriar Boys - Stewball

Stewball was a good horse

He wore a high head

And the mane on his foretop

Was as fine as silk thread

I rode him in England

I rode him in Spain

And I never did lose, boys

I always did gain

So come all you gamblers

Wherever you are

And don't bet your money

On that little gray mare

Most likely she'll stumble

Most likely she'll fall

But you never will lose, boys

On my noble Stewball

As they were a-riding

'Bout halfway around

That gray mare, she stumbled

And fell on the ground

And way out yonder

Ahead of them all

Came a-prancing and dancing

My noble Stewball