Luyện nghe bài hát The Ballad Of Boot Hill

Ira
Ira

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

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

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

Now Ira's folks hungry
And their grew crops of weeds
war came, Ira volunteered
And forgot the white greed

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

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

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

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

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

But he was just a Pima
No water, no crops, no
At home nobody cared what done
And did the Indians dance

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

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

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

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

Yeah, call him drunken Ira
But his land is as dry
And his ghost is thirsty
In the ditch Ira died