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The crops are all in
And the peaches are rotting
The oranges are packed
In the creosote dumps
They're flying you back
To the Mexico border
To pay all your money
And 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 working the fruit trees
They rode the big trucks
To they lay down and die

Goodbye to my Juan,
Goodbye Rosalita
Adios mis amigos,
Jesus y Maria
You won't have a name
When you ride the big airplane
All they will call
You will be deportees

Some of us are illegal,
And others not wanted
Our work contract's out
And we have to move on
But it's six hundred miles
To that 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 on your plains
We died 'neath your trees
And we died in your bushes
Both sides of the river
We died just the same

Goodbye to my Juan,
Goodbye Rosalita
Adios mis amigos,
Jesus y Maria
You won't have a name
When you ride the big airplane
All they will call
You will be deportees

The skyplane caught fire
Over Los Gatos Canyon
A fireball of lightning,
And it shook all the hills
Who are these comrades
that died like the dry leaves
The radio tells me
They're just deportees

Is this the best way
We can grow our big orchards
Is this the best way
We can grow our good fruit
To fall like dry leaves
And rot on the top soil
And be called by
No name except deportee

Goodbye to my Juan,
Goodbye Rosalita
Adios mis amigos,
Jesus y Maria
You won't have a name
When you ride the big airplane
All they will call
You will be deportees.

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