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The Dcrops are all in and the peaches Gare rottenD The Doranges are piled in their creoA7sote dumpsD You're flGying them back to the Mexico DBorder To pay all their money to wade A7back againD
CHORUS:
GoodGbye to my Juan, goodbye DRosalita AdA7ios mes amigos, Jesus Det Maria You Gwon't have a name when you fly Dthe big aeroplane DAll they will call you will be A7deporteeD
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 And they rode the truck till they took down and died Some of us are illegal and some are not wanted Our work contract's out and we have to move on Its 600 miles to that Mexican border They chase us like outlaws, like rustlers, like thieves The skyplane caught fire over las Gatos Canyon A fireball of lightning, it shook all our hills Who are these friends, all scattered like dry leaves The radio says they are just deportees We died in your hills and we died in your deserts We died in your valleys and died in your plains We died 'neath your trees and we died in your bushes Both sides of the river we died just the same 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 to rot on the topsoil And be called by no name except deportees