Stewball Songtext
von Joan Baez

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 place your money
On the little grey mare
Most likely, she'll stumble
Most likely, she′ll fall
But you will never lose, boys
On my noble Stewball

As they were a-riding
'Bout halfway 'round
That grey mare, she stumbled
And fell on the ground
And way out yonder
Ahead of them all
Came a-prancing and dancing
My noble Stewball