Тональность: D major
Verse 1
D
A
D
Ira Hayes,
A
D
G
Ir a Hayes
A
Verse 2
D
A
D
Call him drunken Ira Hayes
G
He won't answer anymore
A
Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian
G
D
Nor the Marine that went to war
Verse 3
D
Gather round me people there's
G
a story I would tell
A
About a brave young Indian
D
you should remember well
From the land of the Pima Indian
G
A proud and noble band
A
Who farmed the Phoenix valley
Verse 4
D
Down the ditches for a thousand years
G
The water grew Ira's peoples' crops
A
'Till the white man stole the water rights
D
And the sparkin' water stopped
Verse 5
D
G
Now Ira's folks were hungry
And their land grew crops of weeds
A
When war came, Ira volunteered
And forgot the white man's greed
D
Verse 6
Call him drunkin' Ira Hayes
G
He won't answer anymore
A
Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian
G
Nor the Marine that went
Verse 7
D
They battled up Iwo Jima's hill
G
Two hundred and fifty men
A
But only twenty- seven lived
D
to walk back down again
Verse 8
D
And when the fight was over
G
And when Old Glory raised
A
among the men who held it high
D
Was the Indian, Ira Hayes
Verse 9
D
Call him drunken Ira Hayes
G
He won't answer anymore
A
Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian
G
Nor the Marine that went to war
D
Verse 10
Ira returned a hero
G
Celebrated through the land
A
He was wined and speeched and
honored;
D
A
G
Everybody shook his hand
Verse 11
G
D
just a Pima Indian
G
No water, no crops, no chance
A
At home nobody cared what Ira'd done
D
And when do the Indians dance
Verse 12
D
Call him drunken Ira Hayes
G
He won't answer anymore
A
Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian
G
Nor the Marine that went to war
D
Verse 13
Then Ira started drinkin hard;
G
Jail was often his home
A
They'd let him raise the flag and lower it
D
Like you'd throw a dog a bone!
Verse 14
D
He died early drunk one mornin'
G
Alone in the land he fought to save
A
Two inches of water in a lonely ditch
D
Was the grave for Ira Hayes
Verse 15
D
Call him drunken Ira Hayes
G
He won't answer anymore
A
Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian
G
D
Nor the Marine that went to war
Verse 16
D
Yeah, call him drunken Ira Hayes
G
But his land is just as dry
A
And his ghost is lyin' thirsty
G
D
In the ditch where Ira died
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