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The Ballad of Ira Hayes


The man that preached the funeral said
“It really was a simple way to die
He laid down to rest one afternoon
And never opened up his eyes
They hired me and Fred and Joe
To dig the grave and carry up some chairs
It took us seven hours and I guess
We must have drunk a case of beer
I guess I ought to go and watch them
Put him down but I don’t own a suit
And anyway when they start talking
About the fire in hell I get spooked
So let’s just sit here in the truck
And act like we don’t know him when they pass
Anyway, when they are all through
We got to go to work and mow the grass
Here they come and who’s that riding
In that big old shiny limousine
Look at all that chrome I do believe that
That’s the sharpest thing I have seen
That must belong to his rich uncle
Someone said he owned a big old farm
When they get parked let’s mosey down
And look it over, that won’t do no harm
That must be the widow in the car
And won’t you take a look at that
That sure is a pretty dress you know
Some women do look good in black
He’s not even in the ground
And they tell me his truck is up for sale
They say she took it pretty hard
But you can’t tell too much behind a veil
Listen, isn’t that pretty when
A bugler plays a military taps
I think when you were in the war
They always hide and play a song like that
Well, here we are and there he goes
And I guess that you might call it our bad luck
I hope he rests in peace
But the trouble is the fellow owes us forty bucks

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