,. When war came, Ira 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 that went to war. There
. Happy holidays to you I'm dreaming of a white Christmas. Just like the ones I used to know. Where the tree tops, glisten. And children, listen. To hear sleigh bells in the snow I'm dreaming of a white
"Hard To Believe That I Found You". By BarryWhite Ain't it a groove?. It really is, isn't it? It really is. Baby, you know what just sitting here thinking. How happy we are right now. And the
hungry . And their land grew crops of weeds. When war came, Ira volunteered . And forgot the white man's greed. CHORUS. Call him drunken Ira Hayes. He won't answer anymore. Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian
I fight my way through the 5 o'clock rush hour/ As daylight slowly leaves the sky/ I open the door to that little room we call home. Her loving arms are to greet me/ And her tender lips are always th
