Luyện nghe bài hát The Ballad of Ira Hayes

Gather 'round me
A I will tell
About a brave young lad
You should remember

From a tribe of Indians
A proud and peaceful
They farmed the valley
Out in land

Down ditches for a thousand years
The sparkling rushed
Till the white man stole water rights
And the running hushed

Iras was hungry
fields grew thick with weeds
But when war Ira volunteered
And forgot the white greed

Call him Ira Hayes
He wont anymore
Not whiskey drinking Indian
Or Marine who to war

Well, they battled up Iwo Hill
Two and fifty men
But twenty-seven lived
To back down again

And after the was over
And Old Glory proudly
the men who held her high
Stood an Indian, Ira

Call him drunken Ira
He answer anymore
Not whiskey drinking Indian
Or Marine who to war

Well, Ira Hayes a hero
Celebrated the land
He was and speeched and honored
Hell, everybody his hand

But he was just a Pima
No food, no friend, no
Back home nobody what Ira had did
And when do the Indians

Well, Ira took to drinking
often was his home
They to let him raise the flag there
And lower it just like youd a dog a bone

And Ira died drunk one morning
All alone in the land hed fought to
Two inches of water in a lonely
Was the grave for Ira

Call him Ira Hayes
He wont anymore
Not that drinking Indian
Or Marine who to war

Yeah, him drunken Ira Hayes
But his is still as dry
And his ghost, well, its lying there
In the where Ira died

Call him drunken Ira
He wont answer
Not whiskey drinking Indian
Or Marine who to war