Song | Skewbald |
Artist | Martin Carthy |
Album | Essential |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
You gallant sportsmen all, come listen to me story | |
Of the bold Skewbald that noble racing pony | |
Arthur Marvel was the man who has brought the Skewbald over | |
He's a diamond in the land and he rolls around in clover | |
These horses were brought out with saddle, whip and bridle | |
And the gentlemen did shout when they saw the noble rider | |
And there's some did shout hooray as the air was thick with curses | |
On the grey Griselda sportsmen laid their purses | |
Now the trumpet it did sound, they shot off like an arrow | |
Scarcely touched the ground where the going it was narrow | |
Then Griselda passed him by as the gentlemen did holler, | |
“Oh, the grey will win the day and the Skewbald he will follow.” | |
But halfway round the track up spoke the noble rider, | |
“I fear we must fall back for she's going like a tiger.” | |
Up spoke the noble horse, “Ride on, ride on, me master, | |
For we're halfway round the track and it's now we'll see who's faster.” | |
So swiftly o'er the grass Skewbald flew like lightning | |
So swiftly o'er the grass that the grey mare she was taken | |
“Ride on, my noble horse, for the good two hundred guineas. | |
Oh your saddle shall be of gold when we pick up our winnings.” | |
Way past the winning post Skewbald won so handy | |
And horse and rider both called for sherry wine and brandy | |
And it's there they drank the health of the gallant Miss Griselda | |
And all who lost their money on the sporting plains of Kildare |
You gallant sportsmen all, come listen to me story | |
Of the bold Skewbald that noble racing pony | |
Arthur Marvel was the man who has brought the Skewbald over | |
He' s a diamond in the land and he rolls around in clover | |
These horses were brought out with saddle, whip and bridle | |
And the gentlemen did shout when they saw the noble rider | |
And there' s some did shout hooray as the air was thick with curses | |
On the grey Griselda sportsmen laid their purses | |
Now the trumpet it did sound, they shot off like an arrow | |
Scarcely touched the ground where the going it was narrow | |
Then Griselda passed him by as the gentlemen did holler, | |
" Oh, the grey will win the day and the Skewbald he will follow." | |
But halfway round the track up spoke the noble rider, | |
" I fear we must fall back for she' s going like a tiger." | |
Up spoke the noble horse, " Ride on, ride on, me master, | |
For we' re halfway round the track and it' s now we' ll see who' s faster." | |
So swiftly o' er the grass Skewbald flew like lightning | |
So swiftly o' er the grass that the grey mare she was taken | |
" Ride on, my noble horse, for the good two hundred guineas. | |
Oh your saddle shall be of gold when we pick up our winnings." | |
Way past the winning post Skewbald won so handy | |
And horse and rider both called for sherry wine and brandy | |
And it' s there they drank the health of the gallant Miss Griselda | |
And all who lost their money on the sporting plains of Kildare |
You gallant sportsmen all, come listen to me story | |
Of the bold Skewbald that noble racing pony | |
Arthur Marvel was the man who has brought the Skewbald over | |
He' s a diamond in the land and he rolls around in clover | |
These horses were brought out with saddle, whip and bridle | |
And the gentlemen did shout when they saw the noble rider | |
And there' s some did shout hooray as the air was thick with curses | |
On the grey Griselda sportsmen laid their purses | |
Now the trumpet it did sound, they shot off like an arrow | |
Scarcely touched the ground where the going it was narrow | |
Then Griselda passed him by as the gentlemen did holler, | |
" Oh, the grey will win the day and the Skewbald he will follow." | |
But halfway round the track up spoke the noble rider, | |
" I fear we must fall back for she' s going like a tiger." | |
Up spoke the noble horse, " Ride on, ride on, me master, | |
For we' re halfway round the track and it' s now we' ll see who' s faster." | |
So swiftly o' er the grass Skewbald flew like lightning | |
So swiftly o' er the grass that the grey mare she was taken | |
" Ride on, my noble horse, for the good two hundred guineas. | |
Oh your saddle shall be of gold when we pick up our winnings." | |
Way past the winning post Skewbald won so handy | |
And horse and rider both called for sherry wine and brandy | |
And it' s there they drank the health of the gallant Miss Griselda | |
And all who lost their money on the sporting plains of Kildare |