Luyện nghe bài hát The Ballad Of Boot Hill

Ira
Ira

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

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

Down the ditches for a thousand
The water grew peoples' crops
'Till the white man the water rights
And the water stopped

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then Ira drinkin' hard
Jail was often his
let him raise the flag and lower it
Like you'd throw a dog a

He died drunk one
Alone in the he fought to save
Two inches of water in a lonely
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 Ira Hayes
But his land is as dry
And his is lyin' thirsty
In the where Ira died