[Verse 1]
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 the white man stole their water rights
And the running water hushed

Now Ira's folks were hungry
And their farm were crops of weeds
But when war came he volunteered
And forgot the white man's greed

[Chorus]
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
[Verse 2]
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 Old Glory raised
One of the men who held it high
Was the Indian Ira Hayes

[Chorus]
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

[Verse 3]
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, no crops, no chance
And at home nobody cared what Ira had done
And the wind did the Indian's dance
[Chorus]
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

[Verse 4]
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'd fought to save
Two inches of water in a lonely ditch
Was the grave for Ira Hayes

[Chorus]
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

[Verse 5]
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
[Chorus]
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