That Ira Hayes song is really powerful. Here are the words:


IRA HAYES (BALLAD OF IRA HAYES)
Words and music by Peter La Farge
As recorded by Peter La Farge on "Peter La Farge on the Warpath" (1965)

Ira Hayes! Ira Hayes!

CHORUS: Call him drunken Ira Hayes; he won't answer anymore,
Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian, nor the marine that went to war.

Gather 'round me, people, and the story I will tell
About a brave young Indian, you should remember well,
From the tribe of Pima Indians, a proud and peaceful band,
Who farmed the Phoenix Valley in Arizona land.

Down their ditches for a thousand years that sparklin' water rushed,
Till the white man stole the water rights and the runnin' water hushed.
Now Ira's folks were hungry and their farm grew crops of weeds,
But when war came, he volunteered and forgot the white man's greed. CHORUS

Well, they started up Iwo Jima Hill, two hundred and fifty men,
But only twenty-seven lived to walk back down again;
And when that fight was over and Old Glory raised,
Among the men who held it high was the Indian, Ira Hayes. CHORUS

Ira Hayes returned a hero, celebrated through this land.
He was wined and speeched and honored, and ev'rybody shook his hand;
But he was just a Pima Indian, no water, no crops, no chance.
At home nobody cared what Ira'd done, and when do the Indians dance? CHORUS

Then Ira started drinkin' hard; jail often was his home.
They let him raise the flag there an' lower it, as you'd throw a dog a bone.
He died drunk early one mornin', alone in this land he'd fought to save.
Two inches of water in a lonely ditch was the grave for Ira Hayes. CHORUS

Yes, call him drunken Ira Hayes, but his land's there still as dry,
And his ghost it's a-lyin' thirsty in the ditch where Ira died.