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Stewball
Peter Paul And Mary
Oh, Stewball was a racehorse, 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 a-way up yonder, ahead of them all
Came a-prancin' and a-dancin' my noble stewball
I bet on the grey mare, I bet on the bay
If I'd have bet on ol' 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
Oh, Stewball was a racehorse, and I wish he were mine
He never drank water, he always drank wine
Escrita por: Elena Mezzetti / Mary Travers / Milton Okun / Noel Paul Stookey. ¿Los datos están equivocados? Avísanos.
Enviada por Wesley. ¿Viste algún error? Envíanos una revisión.
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