Verse
C F Fmaj7 Dm
Gather round me, people, and a story I will tell
G F Fmaj7 C
About a brave young Indian you should remember well
F Fmaj7 Dm
From the tribe of Pima Indians, a proud and a peaceful band,
G F Fmaj7 C
They farmed the Phoenix valley in Arizona land.
C F Fmaj7 Dm
Down their ditches for a thousand years the sparkling water rushed,
G F Fmaj7 C
Till the white man stole their water rights and the running water hushed.
F Fmaj7 Dm
Now Ira's folks were hungry, and their farms grew crops of weeds.
G F Fmaj7 C
But when war came, he volunteered and forgot the white man's greed.
C C/B C7/A#
Call him drunken Ira Hayes
F Fmaj7 Dm
He won't answer anymore,
G
Not the whiskey-drinking Indian
F/C C
Or the Marine who went to war.
C C/B C7/A#
Yes, call him drunken Ira Hayes
F Fmaj7 Dm
He won't answer anymore,
G
Not the whiskey-drinking Indian
F/C C
Or the Marine who went to war.
C F Fmaj7 Dm
They started up Iwo Jima hill, two hundred and fifty men,
G F Fmaj7 C
But only twenty-seven lived to walk back down that hill again.
C F Fmaj7 Dm
And when the fight was over and Old Glory raised
G F Fmaj7 C
One of the men who held it high was the Indian, Ira Hayes.
C C/B C7/A#
Call him drunken Ira Hayes
F Fmaj7 Dm
He won't answer anymore,
G
Not the whiskey-drinking Indian
F/C C
Or the Marine who went to war.
C C/B C7/A#
Yes, call him drunken Ira Hayes
F Fmaj7 Dm
He won't answer anymore,
G
Not the whiskey-drinking Indian
F/C C
Or the Marine who went to war.
C F Fmaj7 Dm
Now, Ira returned a hero, celebrated throughout the land
G F Fmaj7 C
He was wined and speeched and honored, everybody shook his hand.
C F Fmaj7 Dm
But he was just a Pima Indian - no money, no crops, no chance -
G F Fmaj7 C
And at home nobody cared what Ira'd done, and when do the Indians dance?
C C/B C7/A#
Call him drunken Ira Hayes
F Fmaj7 Dm
He won't answer anymore,
G
Not the whiskey-drinking Indian
F/C C
Or the Marine who went to war.
C C/B C7/A#
Yes, call him drunken Ira Hayes
F Fmaj7 Dm
He won't answer anymore,
G
Not the whiskey-drinking Indian
F/C C
Or the Marine who went to war.
C F Fmaj7 Dm
Then Ira started drinking hard, jail was often his home.
G F Fmaj7 C
They let him raise the flag there and lower it like you'd throw a dog a bone.
C F Fmaj7 Dm
He died drunk early one morning, alone in the land he'd fought to save.
G F Fmaj7 C
Two inches of water in a lonely ditch was the grave for Ira Hayes.
C C/B C7/A#
Call him drunken Ira Hayes
F Fmaj7 Dm
He won't answer anymore,
G
Not the whiskey-drinking Indian
F/C C
Or the Marine who went to war.
C C/B C7/A#
Yes, call him drunken Ira Hayes
F Fmaj7 Dm
He won't answer anymore,
G
Not the whiskey-drinking Indian
F/C C
Or the Marine who went to war.
C F Fmaj7 Dm
Yes, call him drunken Ira Hayes, but his land is still as dry,
G F Fmaj7 C
And his ghost is lying thirsty In the ditch where Ira died.
C C/B C7/A#
Call him drunken Ira Hayes
F Fmaj7 Dm
He won't answer anymore,
G
Not the whiskey-drinking Indian
F/C C
Or the Marine who went to war.