Tom: G
Intro: G Am D G C D
G Em Am
Stewball was a good horse, he wore his head high,
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and the mane on his foretop, was fine as silk thread.
G Em Am
I rode him in England, I rode him in Spain,
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and I never did lose, boys, I always did gain.
G Em Am
So come all you gamblers, wherever you are,
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and don`t bet your money on that little grey mare.
G Em Am
Most likely she`ll stumble, most likely she`ll fall,
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but never you`ll lose, boys, on my noble Stewball.
G Em Am
As they were a-riding, `bout halfway round,
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that grey mare she stumbled, and fell on the ground.
G Em Am
And way out yonder, ahead of them all,
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came a-prancing and a-dancing, my noble Stewball.
G Em Am
Stewball was a race horse, and by the day he was mine,
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he never drank water, he always drank wine.
- Enviada por: Sem inscrição
- Exibições: 32
- Nº de acordes: 7
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