Luyện nghe bài hát The Ballad Of Boot Hill

Ira
Ira

Call him drunken Ira
He answer anymore
Not the drinkin' Indian
Nor the that went to war

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

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

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

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

There they up Iwo Jima's hill
Two and fifty men
But only
Lived to walk down again

And when the fight was
And Old Glory raised
Among the men who it high
Was the Indian, Ira

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

Ira a hero
Celebrated through the
He was wined and and honored
Everybody his hand

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

Call him drunken Ira
He answer anymore
Not the drinkin' Indian
Nor the that went to war

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

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

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

Yeah, him drunken Ira Hayes
But his land is as dry
And his ghost is lyin'
In the ditch Ira died