Luyện nghe bài hát The Ballad of Ira Hayes

Ira Hayes, Ira

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

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

the ditches for a thousand years
The water grew people's crops
the white man stole their water rights
And the sparklin' stopped

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

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

they battled up Iwo Jima's hill
Two and fifty men
But twenty seven lived
To walk back again

And when the fight was
And Glory' raised
the men who held it high
Was the Indian, Ira

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

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

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

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

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

He died drunk early one
Alone in the he fought to save
Two inches of in a lonely ditch
Was a grave for Ira

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

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