The crops are all in, and the peaches are rotten
The oranges piled in the creosote dumps
They're flying them back to the Mexico border
To pay all their wages to wade back again
My father's own father, he waded that river
They took all the money he made in his life
My brothers and sisters come work in the fruit trees
They rode on the trucks 'til they took down and died
Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita
Adiós, mi amigos, Jesus and Maria
You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane
All they will call you will be
"Deportee"
Some are illegal, and some are not wanted
They work contracts out, and they've got to move on
Six-hundred miles to the Mexico border
They chase us like outlaws, like rustlers, like thieves
We died in your hills, and we died in your deserts
We died in your valleys, we died on your plains
We died 'neath your trees, and we died in your bushes
Both sides of that river, we died just the same
Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita
Adiós, mi amigos, Jesus and Maria
You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane
All they will call you will be
"Deportee"
The sky-plane caught fire over Los Gatos Canyon
A fireball of lightening that shook all our hills
Who are all these friends, all scattered like dry leaves?
The radio says they are just deportees
Is this the best way to grow our big orchard?
Is this the best way to grow our good fruit?
To fall like dry leaves to rot on my topsoil
To be known by no name except "Deportee"
Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita
Adiós, mi amigos, Jesus and Maria
You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane
All they will call you will be
"Deportee"
Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita
Adiós, mi amigos, Jesus and Maria
You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane
All they will call you will be
"Deportee"
Yes, and all they will call you will be
"Deportee"
|
