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 Marine that to war

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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