The Chad Mitchell Trio
Stewball and Griselda
[Verse 1]
Come, all you men of sportin' blood, and listen to my story
'Tis of the noble Stewball, a gallant racin' pony
'Tis also of his rider, who brought ol' Stewball over
He's the diamond of the land, and he rolls around in clover

[Chorus]
Bet on Stewball, my boy, and you might win, oh, you'll win
Bet on Stewball, my boy, and you might win

[Verse 2]
Oh, the horses they were all brought out with saddle, whip and bridle
The gentlemen did shout when they saw the gallant riders
And some did shout "Hooray!", and the air was filled with curses
On the mare, Griselda, the sportsmen lay their purses

[Chorus]
Bet on Stewball, my boy, and you might win, oh, you'll win
Bet on Stewball, my boy, and you might win

[Verse 3]
Oh, the trumpet it did sound, and they shot off like an arrow
Ol' Stewball scarcely touched the ground, and the goin' it was narrow
Griselda passed him by, and the sportsmen all did holler
"Oh, the gray will win the day, and Stewball, he can foller"
[Chorus]
Bet on Stewball, my boy, and you might win, oh, you'll win
Bet on Stewball, my boy, and you might win

[Verse 4]
In the middle of the track up spoke the noble rider
"I fear we must fall back, that gray is runnin' like a tiger"
Up spoke the noble horse, "Ride on, ride on, my master
We're only half way 'round the course, and now we'll see who's faster"

[Chorus]
Bet on Stewball, my boy, and you might win, oh, you'll win
Bet on Stewball, my boy, and you might win

[Verse 5]
And as they did discourse, ol' Stewball flew like lightnin'
He dashed around the course, and the gray mare she was taken
"Ride on, ride on, my noble horse for a good two hundred guineas
And your saddle, it shall be of gold when we pick up our winnings"

[Chorus]
Bet on Stewball, my boy, and you might win, oh, you'll win
Bet on Stewball, my boy, and you might win

[Verse 6]
Well, past the winnin' post, bold Stewball went so handy
And both the horse and rider called for sherry wine and brandy
They drank to that gray mare, the gallant Miss Griselda
And to all who lost their money on the sportin' plains of Kildare
[Chorus]
Bet on Stewball, my boy, and you might win, oh, you'll win
Bet on Stewball, my boy, and you might win

[Outro]
Bet on Stewball
And you (You might win) might win
Bet on Stewball, my boy, and you might win