"The Ballad Of Ira Hayes" <br /> <br />Ira Hayes, <br />Ira Hayes <br /> <br />[CHORUS:] <br />Call him drunken Ira Hayes <br />He won't answer anymore <br />Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian <br />Nor the Marine that went to war <br /> <br />Gather round me people there's a story I would tell <br />About a brave young Indian you should remember well <br />From the land of the Pima Indian <br />A proud and noble band <br />Who farmed the Phoenix valley in Arizona land <br /> <br />Down the ditches for a thousand years <br />The water grew Ira's peoples' crops <br />'Till the white man stole the water rights <br />And the sparklin' water stopped <br /> <br />Now Ira's folks were hungry <br />And their land grew crops of weeds <br />When war came, Ira volunteered <br />And forgot the white man's greed <br /> <br />[CHORUS:] <br />Call him drunken Ira Hayes <br />He won't answer anymore <br />Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian <br />Nor the Marine that went to war <br /> <br />There they battled up Iwo Jima's hill, <br />Two hundred and fifty men <br />But only twenty-seven lived to walk back down again <br /> <br />And when the fight was over <br />And when Old Glory raised <br />Among the men who held it high <br />Was the Indian, Ira Hayes <br /> <br />[CHORUS:] <br />Call him drunken Ira Hayes <br />He won't answer anymore <br />Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian <br />Nor the Marine that went to war <br /> <br />Ira returned a hero <br />Celebrated through the land <br />He was wined and speeched and honored; Everybody shook his hand <br /> <br />But he was just a Pima Indian <br />No water, no crops, no chance <br />At home nobody cared what Ira'd done <br />And when did the Indians dance <br /> <br />[CHORUS:] <br />Call him drunken Ira Hayes <br />He won't answer anymore <br />Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian <br />Nor the Marine that went to war <br /> <br />Then Ira started drinkin' hard; <br />Jail was often his home <br />They'd let him raise the flag and lower it <br />like you'd throw a dog a bone! <br /> <br />He died drunk one mornin' <br />Alone in the land he fought to save <br />Two inches of water in a lonely ditch <br />Was a grave for Ira Hayes <br /> <br />[CHORUS:] <br />Call him drunken Ira Hayes <br />He won't answer anymore <br />Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian <br />Nor the Marine that went to war <br /> <br />Yeah, call him drunken Ira Hayes <br />But his land is just as dry <br />And his ghost is lyin' thirsty <br />In the ditch where Ira died
