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The Ballad of Ira Hayes

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Johnny Cash

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[Versetto]
A D
Ira Hayes, Ira Hayes.
A D
Call him drunken Ira Hayes, he won't answer anymore;
E A
not the whiskey drinkin' Indian, nor the marine that went to war.
A D
Gather 'round me, people. There's a story I would tell
E A
'bout a brave young Indian you should remember well,
D
from the land of the Pima Indians, a proud and nobel band,
E A
who farmed the Phoenix Valley in Arizona land.
A D
Down their ditches a thousand years, the waters grew Ira's people's crops
E A
till the white man stole their water rights and the sparklin' water stopped.
D
Now, Ira's folks were hungry and their land grew crops of weeds.
E A
When the war came, Ira volunteered and forgot the white man's greed.
A D
Call him drunken Ira Hayes, he won't answer anymore;
E A
not the whiskey drinkin' Indian, nor the marine that went to war.
A D
There they battled up Iwo Jima Hill; 250 men,
E A
but only 27 lived to walk back down again.
D
And when the fight was over, and Old Glory raised,
E A
among the men who held it high was the Indian, Ira Hayes.
A D
Call him drunken Ira Hayes, he won't answer anymore;
E A
not the whiskey drinkin' Indian, nor the marine that went to war.
A D
Ira Hayes returned a hero, celebrated through the land.
E A
He was wined and speeched and honored, ev'rybody shook his hand.
D
But he was just a Pima Indian; no water, no home, no chance.
E
At home nobody cared what Ira had done.
A
And when do the Indians dance?
A D
Call him drunken Ira Hayes, he won't answer anymore;
E A
not the whiskey drinkin' Indian, nor the marine that went to war.
A D
Then Ira started drinkin' hard; jail was often his home.
E A
They let him raise the flag and lower it like you'd throw a dog a bone.
D
He died drunk early one morning, alone in the land he fought to save.
E A
Two inches of water in a lonely ditch was a grave for Ira Hayes.
A D
Call him drunken Ira Hayes, he won't answer anymore;
E A
not the whiskey drinkin' Indian, nor the marine that went to war.
A D
Yeah, call him drunken Ira Hayes, but his land is just as dry,
E A
and his ghost is lyin' thirsty in the ditch were Ira died.
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