The Ballad Of Ira Hayes chords by Kris Kristofferson

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Verse 1
G 
Ira Hayes, Ira Hayes
Call him drunken Ira Hayes
C 
He won't answer anymore
D 
Not the whiskey -drinkin' Indian
G 
Nor the marine that went to war
Gather round me, people
C 
There's a story I would tell
D 
About a brave young Indian
G 
you should remember well
From the land of the Pima Indian,
C 
a proud and noble man
D 
Who farmed the Phoenix Valley
G 
and Arizona land
Down the ditches for a thousand years
C 
the water grew Irish people's crops
D 
Till the white man stole
the water rights,
G 
and the sparkling water stopped.
Now Ira's folks were hungry,
C 
and the land grew crops of weeds.
D 
When the war came, Ira volunteered,
G 
and forgot the white man's greed.
Call him drunken Ira Haines,
C 
if he won't answer anymore.
D 
Not the whiskey -drinkin' Indians
G 
or the marine that went to war
There they battled up Iwo Jima's Hill,
C 
two hundred and fifty men
D 
But only twenty -seven lived
G 
to walk back down again
When the fight was over
C 
and when old glory raised
D 
Among the men who held it high
G 
was the Indian, Ira Hayes.
Call him drunken, Ira Hayes,
C 
he won't answer any more.
D 
Not the whiskey -drinking Indian,
G 
nor the marine that went to war.
Ira returned a hero,
C 
celebrated through the land.
D 
He was whined and speeched
and honored,
G 
everybody shook his hand.
But he was just a Pima Indian,
C 
no water,  no crops, no chance.
D 
At home nobody cared what I was done,
G 
when did the Indians dance?
Call him drunken I will hate,
C 
he won't answer anymore.
D 
Not the whiskey -drinkin' Indian
G 
nor the marine that went to war
C 
Then Iris started drinkin' hard,
Jill was off in his home
D 
He let him raise the flag
G 
and lower it like he'd throw a dog a bone
He died drunk one morning,
C 
alone in the land he fought to save
D 
Two inches of water in a lonely dish
G 
was a grave for Ira Hayes.
Call him Drunken Ira Hayes,
C 
you won't answer any more.
D 
Not the whiskey -drinkin' Indian
G 
or the marine that went to war.
Yeah, call him Drunken Ira Hayes,
C 
but his land is just as dry,
D 
And his ghost is lyin' thirsty
G 
in the ditch where Ira died.