The Ballad of Ira Hayes

Hazel DickensHazel Dickens 

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Hazel Dickens

Hazel Jane Dickens (June 1, 1935 – April 22, 2011) was an American bluegrass singer, songwriter, double bassist and guitarist. Her music was characterized not only by her high, lonesome singing style, but also by her provocative pro-union, feminist songs. Cultural blogger John Pietaro noted that "Dickens didn’t just sing the anthems of labor, she lived them and her place on many a picket line, staring down gunfire and goon squads, embedded her into the cause." The New York Times extolled her as "a clarion-voiced advocate for coal miners and working people and a pioneer among women in bluegrass music." With Alice Gerrard, Dickens was one of the first women to record a bluegrass album. more »

Year:

1983

3:49

57 Views

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Call him drunken ira hayes
He won't answer any more
Not the whiskey drinkin' indian
Not the marine who went to war

Gather 'round me people
There's a story I would tell
About a brave young indian
You should remember well
From 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 waters grew ira's people's crops
Till the white man stole their water rights 
And their sparklin' water stopped
Now ira's folks grew 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 any more
Not the whiskey drinkin' indian
Not the marine who went to war

Well, they battle up iwo jima hill 
Two hundred and fifty men
But only twenty seven lived
To walk back down again
When the fight was over 
And old glory raised
Among the men who held it high
Was indian ira hayes

Call him drunken ira hayes
He won't answer any more
Not the whiskey drinkin' indian
Not the marine who 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 had done 
And when do the indians dance?

Call him drunken ira hayes
He won't answer any more;
Not the whiskey drinkin' indian
Not the marine who went to war

Then ira started drinkin' hard
Jail was often his home
They let him raise the flag and lower it
As you would throw a dog a bone
He died drunk early one morning
Alone in the land he'd 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 any more
Not the whiskey drinkin' indian
Not the marine who went to war

Yeah! call him drunken ira hayes
But his land is just as dry
And the ghost is lying thirsty
In the ditch where ira died

 Watch: New Singing Lesson Videos Can Make Anyone A Great Singer