Luyện nghe bài hát The Ballad Of Boot Hill

Ira
Ira

him drunken Ira Hayes
He answer anymore
Not the whiskey Indian
Nor the that went to war

round me people there's a story I would tell
About a brave young you should remember well
From the land of the Pima Indian a proud and band
Who farmed the Phoenix valley in land

Down the ditches for a thousand
The grew Ira's peoples' crops
'Till the man stole the water rights
And the sparklin' water

Now Ira's folks were
And their land crops of weeds
war came, Ira volunteered
And forgot the white man's

Call him drunken Ira
He won't anymore
Not the whiskey drinkin'
Nor the that went to war

There they battled up Iwo Jima's
Two hundred and men
But twenty-seven
Lived to walk back down

And the fight was over
And when Old Glory
Among the men who held it
Was the Indian, Ira

Call him Ira Hayes
He won't answer
Not the whiskey Indian
Nor the Marine went to war

Ira a hero
Celebrated the land
He was wined and speeched and
shook his hand

But he was just a Pima
No water, no crops, no
At home nobody cared what Ira'd
And when did the Indians

Call him drunken Ira
He won't answer
Not the whiskey drinkin'
Nor the that went to war

Ira started drinkin' hard
Jail was his home
let him raise the flag and lower it
Like you'd throw a dog a

He drunk one mornin'
Alone in the he fought to save
Two of water in a lonely ditch
Was a grave for Ira

him drunken Ira Hayes
He won't answer
Not the drinkin' Indian
Nor the Marine that to war

Yeah, call him drunken Ira
But his is just as dry
And his is lyin' thirsty
In the ditch where Ira