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letras de
Bob Dylan
THE BALLAD OF IRA HAYES
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Letra y Significado de
THE BALLAD OF IRA HAYES,
Bob Dylan
Significados y Opiniones (
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)
Letra
Oh no! Esta misteriosa letra aun no encontro explicación. Si estas acá, podes ser la primer persona que aporte el significado de esta canción. No es necesario registrarse, puede ser anonimo. Hace clic en el botón verde y envianos tu opinión.
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Envia tu opinión de THE BALLAD OF IRA HAYES
Envia tu opinión de THE BALLAD OF IRA HAYES
Gather round me 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 farms grew crops of weeds
but when war came, he 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 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, two hundred and fifty men
but only twenty-seven 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.
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.
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'd done, and when do the indians 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.
Then 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.
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.
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
call him drunken ira hayes
he won't answer anymore
not the whiskey-drinking indian
or the marine who went to war.
Corregir Letra
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Corregir Letra
Gather round me 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 farms grew crops of weeds but when war came, he 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 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, two hundred and fifty men but only twenty-seven 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. 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. 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'd done, and when do the indians 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. Then 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. 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. 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 call him drunken ira hayes he won't answer anymore not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war.
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