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Unknown Miscellaneous Ira Hayes IRA HAYES by Peter LaFarge (verses spoken, chorus sung) Gather round me people and a story I will tell About a brave young Indian - you should remember well From the tribe of Pima Indians- a proud and peaceful band Who farmed the Phoenix valley in Arizona land Down their ditches for a thousand years the sparkling water rushed Till the white man stole their water rights and the running water hushed Now Ira's folks were hungry and their farm grew crops of weeds But when war came, he volunteered and forgot the white man's greed Ira Hayes, Ira Hayes Call him drunken Ira hayes He won't answer any more Not the whiskey drinking Indian Nor the Marine who went to war They started up Ira Jima hill, two hundred and fifty men But only twenty seven lived to walk back down again And when the fight was over and Old Glory raised Among the men who held it high was the Indian, Ira Hayes Ira Hayes returned a hero, celebrated through the land He was wined and speeched and honored, everybody shook his hand But he was just a Pima Indian - no money, no crops, no chance At home nobody cared what Ira'd done and when do the Indians dance? Then Ira started drinking hard, jail often was his home They let him raise the flag there and lower it as you'd throw a dog a bone He died drunk early one morning, alone in the land he'd fought to save Two inches of water in a lonely ditch was the grave for Ira Hayes Yes, call him drunken Ira Hayes But his land is still as dry And his ghost is lying thirsty In the ditch where Ira died words and tune by Peter LaFarge @Indian @west @war @soldier @drink filename[ IRAHAYES SF ===DOCUMENT BOUNDARY=== |
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