Luyện nghe bài hát The Ballad Of Boot Hill

Ira
Ira

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

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

the ditches for a thousand years
The water grew peoples' crops
'Till the white man stole the water
And the sparklin' stopped

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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