The Ballad of Ira Hayes by enrique almaguer

Ira Hayes...

Ira Hayes...

Call him drunken Ira Hayes,

He won't answer anymore,

Not the whiskey drinking Indian,

Or the marine that went to war.

Gather 'round me people,

There's a story I would tell,

'Bout a brave young Indian,

You should remember well.

From the land of the Pima Indian,

A proud and noble band,

Who farmed the Pheonix Valley,

In Arizona land.

Down the ditches a thousand years,

The waters grew Ira's peoples' crops,

'Til the white man stole their water rights,

And the sparkling water stopped.

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.

Call him drunken Ira Hayes,

He won't answer anymore,

Not the whiskey drinking Indian,

Or the marine that went to war.

There they battled up Hirajima hill,

Two hundred and fifty men,

But only twenty-seven lived,

To walk back down again.

And when the fight was over,

And Old Glory raised,

Among 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 that went to war.

Ira Hayes returned a hero,

Celebrated through the land,

He was wined and speeched and honored,

Everybody shook his hand,

But he was just a Pima Indian,

No water, no home, no chance,

At home nobody cared what Ira'd done,

And when did the Indians dance.

Call him drunken Ira Hayes,

He won't answer anymore,

Not the whiskey drinking Indian,

Or the marine that went to war.

Then Ira started drinking hard,

Jail was often his home,

They let him raise the flag Old Glory,

Like you'd throw a dog a bone.

He died drunk early one morning,

Alone in the land he fought to save,

Two inches of water and a lonely ditch,

Was a grave for Ira Hayes.

Call him drunken Ira Hayes,

He won't answer anymore,

Not the whiskey drinking Indian,

Or the marine that went to war.

Yeah, call him drunken Ira Hayes,

But his land is just as dry,

And his ghost is lying thirsty,

In the ditch where Ira died.

In the song, Johnny cash introduces the Pima Indians, a tribe that occupied an oasis in the desert. Johnny Cash then claims that when Americans started settling the area in the late 19th century, "the white men stole their water rights and the sparkling water stopped," plunging the tribe into poverty. The song then introduces Hayes, who volunteers for the U.S. Marine Corps forgetting, in Johnny words, "the white man's greed and participates in the raising of the flag on Iwo Jima."

When Hayes returns home, he faces discomfort and hostility. Even Americans' attempts to honor Hayes are treated with contempt in the lyrics they "let him raise the flag and lower it, like you'd throw a dog a bone". Rejected by even his own people back home, nobody cared what Ira'd done, and when did the Indians dance Ira descends into alcoholism and dies drunk in a ditch. Jhonny Cash again uses Hayes's death to call attention to the Pimas current plight: "but his land is just as dry

Credits:

Created with images by Tony Fischer Photography - "Ira Hayes, Arlington National Cemetery (Native-American Hero)"

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