Townes Van Zandt
Ballad Of Ira Hayes
Capo on the 2nd fret
Verce
Come gather 'round me, people, there's a story I would tell
About a brave young Indian, you should remember well;
Frome the land of the Pima Indians, a proud and noble band,
Who farmed the Phoenix Valley in Arizona land.
Down their ditches for a thousand years the aparkling weater rushed
Till the white man stole their water rights and their sparklin' water hushed
Now Ira's folks were hungry and their land grew crops of weeds
When war came Ira volunteered and forgot the white man's greed.
Chorus
Call him drunken Ira Hayes, He won't answer anymore;
Not the whiskey drinkin' indian, not the marine that went to war.