The Chad Mitchell Trio
The Chad Mitchell Trio
The Chad Mitchell Trio
The Chad Mitchell Trio
The Chad Mitchell Trio
The Chad Mitchell Trio
The Chad Mitchell Trio
The Chad Mitchell Trio
The Chad Mitchell Trio
The Chad Mitchell Trio
The Chad Mitchell Trio
The Chad Mitchell Trio
[Verse 1]
Well, Stewball was a race horse
And he held a high head
And the mane on his foretop
Was as fine as silk thread
[Verse 2]
His bridle was silver
And his harness was gold
And the price on his saddle
Has never been told
[Verse 3]
Well, I rode him in England
And I rode him in Spain
And I bet you five dollars
I'll ride him again
[Verse 4]
Now, come all you gamblers
Wherever you are
And don't bet your money
On the little grey mare
[Verse 5]
Most likely she'll stumble (She will stumble)
Most likely she'll fall (And she'll fall)
But you never will lose, boys (Never will lose)
On my noble Stewball
[Verse 6]
Well, now they are riding (Now, they are riding)
'Bout halfway around (Halfway around)
And the grey mare she stumbled (Grey mare she stumbled)
And fell on the ground
[Verse 7]
And away out yonder
Way ahead of them all
Come a-dancin' an' prancin'
My noble Stewball
[Outro]
Come a-dancin' an' prancin'
My noble Stewball
Stewball was written by John Herald.
Stewball was produced by Franklin Fried.