Come gather round me people, there?s a story I would tell
about a brave young Indian that 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 for ten thousand years the sparkling waters rushed
Call him drunken Ira Hayes
He won?t answer anymore
Not the whiskey drinkin Indian
Nor the Marine that went to war
They battled up Iwo Jima?s hill, two hundred and fifty men