The crops are all in and the peaches are rotting The oranges are piled in their creosote dumps Flying us back to the Mexican border Spend all our money to wade back again
Father's own father, he waded that river It took all the money he made in his life My brothers and sisters come to work in the fruit trees And they ride the trucks 'til they took down and died
Goodbye to my Juan Goodbye Rosalita Adios mis amigos Jesus y Maria You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane And all they will call you will be deportees
Some of us are illegal and others not wanted Our work contract's out and we've got to move on Six hundred miles to the Mexican 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 in your plains We died 'neath your trees, we died in your oceans Both sides of the river and we died just the same
Skyplane caught fire over Los Gatos canyon A fireball of lightning, it shook all our hills Who are these friends who are scattered like dry leaves The radio says they are just deportees
Is this the best way we can grow big orchards? Is this the best way we can grow our good fruit? Scattered like dry leaves that rot on your topsoil We're known by no name except deporteesTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
