Sem imagem
Tom: C

                    C
Old Stewball was a racehorse,  
                    Dm
And I wish he were mine.  
               G
He never drank water,  
               C     F  C
He only drank wine.

                C
His bridle was silver,  
                     Dm
And his mane it was gold,  
                  G
And the worth of his saddle  
                C   F   C
Has never been told.  

                          C
Oh the fairgrounds were crowded,  
                   Dm
And Stewball was there,  
                     G
But the betting was heavy  
                    C   F   C
On the bay and the mare.  

                   C
As they were approaching,  
                  Dm
About half way around,  
                      G
The gray mare she stumbled  
                   C   F  C
and fell to the ground.  

                C
And away out yonder,  
               Dm
Ahead of them all,  
                        G
Came a-prancing and a-dancing,  
              C    F   C
My noble Stewball.  


                    C
I bet on the gray mare  
                 Dm
And I bet on the bay.  
                      G
If I'd bet on old Stewball  
                     C    F  C
I'd be a free man today.  

                        C
Oh the hoot owl she hollers,  
                      Dm
And the turtle dove moans.  
                    G
I'm a poor boy in trouble.  
                      C   F  C
I'm a long way from home.  

                    C
Old Stewball was a racehorse,  
                    Dm
And I wish he were mine.  
               G
He never drank water,  
               C     F  C
He only drank wine.
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