The Ballad of Ira Hayes - Bob Dylan

Ira Hayes Ira Hayes Call him drunken Ira Hayes He won't answer anymore Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian Nor the Marine that 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 Indian, a proud and noble band Who farmed the Phoenix valley in Arizona land Down the ditches of thousand years The water grew Ira's peoples' crops 'Till the white man stole the water rights And the sparklin' 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 drinkin' Indian Nor the Marine that went to war There they battled up Iwo Jima's 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 drinkin' Indian Nor the Marine that went to war Ira,he is 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 drinkin' Indian Nor the Marine that went to war Then Ira started drinkin' hard Jail was often his home They'd let him raise the flag and lower it Like you'd throw a dog a bone He died drunk early one mornin' Alone in the land he fought to save Two inches of water in a lonely ditch Was a grave for Ira Hayes Call him drunken Ira Hayes He won't answer anymore Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian Nor 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

(Peter La Farge) Ira Hayes, Ira Hayes. Call him drunken Ira Hayes. He won't answer anymore. Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian, Nor the Marine that 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 Indian, a proud and noble band, Who farmed the Phoenix valley in Arizona land. Down the ditches of a thousand years, The waters grew Ira's peoples' crops. Till the white man stole the water rights, And the sparklin' 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 drinkin' Indian, Nor the Marine that went to war. There they battled up Iwo Jima 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 drinkin' Indian, Nor 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 drinkin' Indian, Nor the Marine that went to war. Then Ira started drinkin' hard. Jail was often his home. They let him raise the flag and lower it, Like you'd throw a dog a bone. He died drunk early one mornin', Alone in the land he fought to save. Two inches of water in a lonely ditch, Was a grave for Ira Hayes. Call him drunken Ira Hayes. He won't answer anymore. Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian, Nor the Marine that went to war. Yeah, call him drunken Ira Hayes. But his land is just as dry. And his ghost is lyin' thirsty, In the ditch where Ira died.

Years ago my heart was set to live, oh And I've been trying hard against unblievable odds Gets so hard at times like now to hold on Guns they wait to be stuck by That my side is gone And there ain't noone going to turn me around There ain't no one going to turn me around People around you tell you that they know The places they've been to and it's easy to go They'll zip you up and dress you down and stand you in a room You know you don't have to You can just say no And they're ain't no one going to turn me around There ain't no one going to turn me around There ain't no one going to turn me around There ain't no one going to turn me around I've been built up and trusted Broke down and busted They'll get theirs and we'll get ours If you can just hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on Years ago my heart was set to live, oh And I've been trying hard against, against strong odds Gets so hard at times like now to hold on Gonna fall if I dont fight That my side is gone And there ain't no one going to turn me around There ain't no one going to turn me around Ain't noone going to turn me around There ain't noone going to turn me around

Stake my future on a hell of a past Looks like tomorrow is coming on fast Ain't complaining 'bout what I got Seen better times, but who has not? Silvio, silver and gold Won't buy back the beat of a heart grown cold Silvio, I gotta go Find out something only dead men know Honest as the next jade rolling that stone When I come knocking don't throw me no bone I'm an old boll weevil looking for a home If you don't like it you can leave me alone I can snap my fingers and require the rain From a clear blue sky and turn it off again I can stroke your body and relieve your pain And charm the whistle off an evening train Silvio, silver and gold Won't buy back the beat of a heart grown cold Silvio, I gotta go Find out something only dead men know I give what I got until I got no more I take what I get until I even the score You know I love you and furthermore When it's time to go you got an open door I can tell you fancy, I can tell you plain You give something up for everything you gain Since every pleasure's got an edge of pain Pay for your ticket and don't complain Silvio, silver and gold Won't buy back the beat of a heart grown cold Silvio, I gotta go, go Find out something only dead men know One of these days and it won't be long Going down in the valley and sing my song I will sing it loud and sing it strong Let the echo decide if I was right or wrong Silvio, silver and gold Won't buy back the beat of a heart grown cold Silvio, I gotta go Find out something only dead men know Silvio, silver and gold Won't buy back the beat of a heart grown cold Silvio, I gotta go Find out something only dead men know Silvio, silver and gold Won't buy back the beat of a heart grown cold Silvio, I gotta go Find out something only dead men know Come on Come on