Luyện nghe bài hát The Ballad Of Boot Hill

Ira
Ira

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

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

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

Now folks were hungry
And their land grew crops of
When war came, Ira
And the white man's greed

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

There battled up Iwo Jima's hill
Two hundred and men
But only
Lived to walk back again

And the fight was over
And when Old raised
the men who held it high
Was the Indian, Ira

Call him Ira Hayes
He answer anymore
Not the whiskey Indian
Nor the Marine that to war

Ira a hero
through the land
He was and speeched and honored
shook his hand

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

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

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

He died one mornin'
Alone in the land he fought to
Two inches of in a lonely ditch
Was a grave for Ira

Call him Ira Hayes
He answer anymore
Not the whiskey drinkin'
Nor the Marine went to war

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