"The Ballad Of Ira Hayes"
Gather round you people and a story I will tell
About a brave young Indian you should remember well
>From the tribe of Pima Indians, a proud and a peaceful band
They farmed the Phoenix Valley in Arizona land
Down their ditches for a thousand years the sparkling water rushed
Till their white man stole their water rights and the running water hushed
Now Ira's folks were hungry and their farms wene crops of weeds
But when war came he volunteers and forgot, the white man's greed
Call him, Drunken Ira Hayes, he won't answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking Indian or the marine who went to war
Yes, call him, Drunken Ira Hayes, he won't answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking Indian or the marine who went to war.
They started up Iwo Jima Hill, 250 men But only 27 lived to walk back down that hill again And when the fight was over and the old glory raised One of the men who held it high was the Indian Ira Hayes Call him, Drunken Ira Hayes, he won't answer anymore Not the whiskey-drinking Indian or the marine who went to war Call him, Drunken Ira Hayes, he won't answer anymore Not the whiskey-drinking Indian or the marine who went to war.
Now Ira returned a hero, celebrated throughout the land He was wined and speeched and honored, everybody shook his hand But he was just a Pima Indian, no money crops, no chance And at home nobody cared what Ira had done and the wind did the Indian's dance Call him, Drunken Ira Hayes, he won't answer anymore Not the whiskey-drinking Indian or the marine who went to war Call him, Drunken Ira Hayes, he won't answer anymore Not the whiskey-drinking Indian or the marine who went to war.
And Ira started drinking hard, jail was often his home They let him raise the flag there and lower it like you'd throw a dog a bone He died drunk early one morning, alone in the land he had fought to save Two inches of water in a lonely ditch was the grave for Ira Hayes Call him, Drunken Ira Hayes, he won't answer anymore Not the whiskey-drinking Indian or the marine who went to war Yes, call him, Drunken Ira Hayes, he won't answer anymore Not the whiskey-drinking Indian or the marine who went to war.
Yes, call him, Drunken Ira Hayes, but his land is still as dry And his ghost is lying thirsty in the ditch where Ira died Call him, Drunken Ira Hayes, he won't answer anymore Not the whiskey-drinking Indian or the marine who went to war Yes, call him, Drunken Ira Hayes, he won't answer anymore Not the whiskey-drinking Indian or the marine who went to war.
Dead Heroes (performed by the punk band, "Red Rockers, " [radical leftist lyrics like from their previous band, "The Dils, " who did, "Class War."]) (by Darren Hill)
Dead heroes - I see them lying in the grave
Dead heroes - I hear them calling out my name
Dead heroes - I gotta fight for the cause
Dead heroes - for the red white and blue!
What does it take for us to win?
Dead heroes on the news at ten.
I'll fight for a better way, to be a dead hero for the U.S.A.
I've got, I've got to be free - these kids will never see twenty.
I've got to get my name on the list - I've to die, like all the rest.
CHORUS:
Dead heroes! That's the price you pay
Dead heroes! For the U.S.A.
Dead heroes! There's a better way
Dead heroes! For the U.S.A.
We've gotta fight - I don't know why
We've gotta die - tell me why
I've got to kill - that's the American way
(repeat)
1000 miles of endless screams, where all the dead heroes lay
I've got the choice to set my knife, I've got the courage to set my life
I've got the day I'll pick to die. Gotta hate someone, I don't know why
I'll fight for a better way, be a dead hero for the U.S.A.
-- Michael Pugliese