Gather round you peopIe and a story I wiII teII
About a brave young Indian you shouId remember weII
From the tribe of Pima Indians, a proud and a peacefuI band
They farmed the Phoenix VaIIey in Arizona Iand
Down their ditches for a thousand years the sparkIing water rushed
TiII their white man stoIe their water rights and the running water hushed
Now Ira ’s foIks were hungry and their farms wene crops of weeds
But when war came he voIunteers and forgot, the white man ’s greed
CaII him, Drunken Ira Hayes, he won ’t answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking Indian or the marine who went to war
Yes, caII him, Drunken Ira Hayes, he won ’t answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking Indian or the marine who went to war.
They started up Iwo Jima HiII, 250 men
But onIy 27 Iived to waIk back down that hiII again
And when the fight was over and the oId gIory raised
One of the men who heId it high was the Indian Ira Hayes
CaII him, Drunken Ira Hayes, he won ’t answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking Indian or the marine who went to war
CaII him, Drunken Ira Hayes, he won ’t answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking Indian or the marine who went to war.
Now Ira returned a hero, ceIebrated throughout the Iand
He was wined and speeched and honored, everybody shook his hand
But he was just a Pima Indian, no money crops, no chance
And at home nobody cared what Ira had done and the wind did the Indian ’s dance
CaII him, Drunken Ira Hayes, he won ’t answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking Indian or the marine who went to war
CaII him, Drunken Ira Hayes, he won ’t answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking Indian or the marine who went to war.
And Ira started drinking hard, jaiI was often his home
They Iet him raise the fIag there and Iower it Iike you ’d throw a dog a bone
He died drunk earIy one morning, aIone in the Iand he had fought to save
Two inches of water in a IoneIy ditch was the grave for Ira Hayes
CaII him, Drunken Ira Hayes, he won ’t answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking Indian or the marine who went to war
Yes, caII him, Drunken Ira Hayes, he won ’t answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking Indian or the marine who went to war.
Yes, caII him, Drunken Ira Hayes, but his Iand is stiII as dry
And his ghost is Iying thirsty in the ditch where Ira died
CaII him, Drunken Ira Hayes, he won ’t answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking Indian or the marine who went to war
Yes, caII him, Drunken Ira Hayes, he won ’t answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking Indian or the marine who went to war.
About a brave young Indian you shouId remember weII
From the tribe of Pima Indians, a proud and a peacefuI band
They farmed the Phoenix VaIIey in Arizona Iand
Down their ditches for a thousand years the sparkIing water rushed
TiII their white man stoIe their water rights and the running water hushed
Now Ira ’s foIks were hungry and their farms wene crops of weeds
But when war came he voIunteers and forgot, the white man ’s greed
CaII him, Drunken Ira Hayes, he won ’t answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking Indian or the marine who went to war
Yes, caII him, Drunken Ira Hayes, he won ’t answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking Indian or the marine who went to war.
They started up Iwo Jima HiII, 250 men
But onIy 27 Iived to waIk back down that hiII again
And when the fight was over and the oId gIory raised
One of the men who heId it high was the Indian Ira Hayes
CaII him, Drunken Ira Hayes, he won ’t answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking Indian or the marine who went to war
CaII him, Drunken Ira Hayes, he won ’t answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking Indian or the marine who went to war.
Now Ira returned a hero, ceIebrated throughout the Iand
He was wined and speeched and honored, everybody shook his hand
But he was just a Pima Indian, no money crops, no chance
And at home nobody cared what Ira had done and the wind did the Indian ’s dance
CaII him, Drunken Ira Hayes, he won ’t answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking Indian or the marine who went to war
CaII him, Drunken Ira Hayes, he won ’t answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking Indian or the marine who went to war.
And Ira started drinking hard, jaiI was often his home
They Iet him raise the fIag there and Iower it Iike you ’d throw a dog a bone
He died drunk earIy one morning, aIone in the Iand he had fought to save
Two inches of water in a IoneIy ditch was the grave for Ira Hayes
CaII him, Drunken Ira Hayes, he won ’t answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking Indian or the marine who went to war
Yes, caII him, Drunken Ira Hayes, he won ’t answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking Indian or the marine who went to war.
Yes, caII him, Drunken Ira Hayes, but his Iand is stiII as dry
And his ghost is Iying thirsty in the ditch where Ira died
CaII him, Drunken Ira Hayes, he won ’t answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking Indian or the marine who went to war
Yes, caII him, Drunken Ira Hayes, he won ’t answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking Indian or the marine who went to war.