Chords for Townes Van Zandt - Ballad of Ira Hayes

Tempo:
64.55 bpm
Chords used:

A

B

E

F#

Tuning:Standard Tuning (EADGBE)Capo:+0fret
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Townes Van Zandt - Ballad of Ira Hayes chords
Start Jamming...
Well, come gather round me, people,
[A] a story I'd like to tell
[B]
about a brave young Indian that you [A] should remember well,
[E]
from a tribe of Pima Indians, [A] a proud and noble band
[B]
that farmed the Phoenix Valley [A] down in Arizona land.
[E]
Well, down the ditches for 10,000 years,
[A] the sparkling waters rushed,
[B]
and a white man stole the water rights
and [A] all the running waters [E] hushed.
Now, ours folks go hungry,
[A] and their farms grow crops of weeds.
When [B] war came, our volunteer [A] forgot the white man's [E] greed.
Call him drunken Ira Hayes, [A] he won't answer anymore.
[B] Not the whiskey-drinking Indian, [A] the Marine that went [E] to war.
Well, they battled up Iwo Jima [A] Hill, 250 men,
[B] and only 27 lived [A] to walk back down again.
[E] But when that fight was over, [A] and when old glory raised,
[B] among the men that held their high was the Indian [E] Ira Hayes.
Call him drunken Ira Hayes, he [A] won't answer anymore.
[B] Not the whiskey-drinking Indian, the Marine [E] that went to war.
Well, Ira came back a hero.
[A] He was celebrated throughout the land.
[B] He was wined and speeched and honored.
Everybody shook his hand.
[E]
But he was just a Pima Indian.
[A] He had no money, no home, no chance.
In Arizona, [B] no one cared what Ira had [A] done.
It's when did the Indians [E] dance.
So Ira started drinking hard.
[A] Jail was often his home.
[B] They let him raise the flag and lower it
[A] like he'd throw a dog upon.
[E]
Well, he died drunk early one morning.
All alone in this land he'd fought to save.
[B]
Two inches of water in a lonesome ditch
[A] was a grave for Ira [E] Hayes.
Call him drunken Ira Hayes, he [A] won't answer anymore.
[B] Not the whiskey-drinking Indian, [A] the Marine that went [E] to war.
Yeah, call him drunken Ira Hayes,
[A] but his land is still as dry.
[B] And his ghost is lying thirsty [A] inside the ditch where [E] Ira died.
Key:  
A
1231
B
12341112
E
2311
F#
134211112
A
1231
B
12341112
E
2311
F#
134211112
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_ _ _ _ _ _ _
Well, come gather round me, people,
[A] a story I'd like to tell
[B]
about a brave young Indian that you [A] should remember well,
[E] _ _
from a tribe of Pima Indians, [A] a proud and noble band
_ [B]
that farmed the Phoenix Valley [A] down in Arizona land.
[E] _ _ _
Well, down the ditches for 10,000 years,
[A] the sparkling waters rushed,
_ [B]
and a white man stole the water rights
and [A] all the running waters [E] hushed. _
Now, ours folks go hungry,
[A] and their farms grow crops of weeds.
When [B] war came, our volunteer [A] forgot the white man's [E] greed. _
Call him drunken Ira Hayes, [A] he won't answer anymore. _
[B] Not the whiskey-drinking Indian, [A] the Marine that went [E] to war. _ _
_ Well, they battled up Iwo Jima [A] Hill, 250 men, _ _
[B] and only 27 lived [A] to walk back down again.
[E] _ But when that fight was over, [A] and when old glory raised,
[B] among the men that held their high was the Indian [E] Ira Hayes.
_ _ Call him drunken Ira Hayes, he [A] won't answer anymore.
[B] Not the whiskey-drinking Indian, the Marine [E] that went to war. _ _
Well, Ira came back a hero.
[A] He was celebrated throughout the land.
[B] He was wined and speeched and honored.
Everybody shook his hand.
[E] _ _ _
But he was just a Pima Indian.
[A] He had no money, no home, no chance.
In Arizona, [B] no one cared what Ira had [A] done.
It's when did the Indians [E] dance. _ _
So Ira started drinking hard.
[A] _ Jail was often his home.
[B] They let him raise the flag and lower it
[A] like he'd throw a dog upon.
[E] _ _
Well, he died drunk early one morning.
All alone in this land he'd fought to save.
[B]
Two inches of water in a lonesome ditch
[A] was a grave for Ira [E] Hayes. _
Call him drunken Ira Hayes, he [A] won't answer anymore.
[B] Not the whiskey-drinking Indian, [A] the Marine that went [E] to war. _ _
Yeah, call him drunken Ira Hayes,
[A] but his land is still as dry.
[B] And his ghost is lying thirsty [A] inside the ditch where [E] Ira died. _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _