Letra Stewball de Joan Baez original
Stewball was a good horse, he wore his head high, And the mane on his foretop, was 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 grey mare. Most likely she`ll stumble, most likely she`ll fall, But never you`ll 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 a-dancing, my noble Stewball. Stewball was a race horse, and by the day he was mine, He never drank water, he always drank wine. (Joan Baez)