Arlo Guthrie - Deportees Lyrics
The crops are all in and the peaches are rottingThe oranges are piled in their cresote dumpsThey're flying you back to the Mexico borderTo pay all your money to wade back againMy father's own father, he wanted that riverThey took all the money he made in his lifeMy brothers and sisters come working the fruit treesAnd they rode the truck till they took down and diedCHORUSGood-bye to my Juan, good-bye RosalitaAdios mis amigos, Jesus y MarisYou won't have a name when you ride the big air-planeAnd all they will call you will be deportees.Some of us are illega, and others not wantedOur work contract's out and we have to move onBut it's six hundred miles to that Mexican borderThey chase us like outlaws, like rustlers, like theives.We died in your hills, we died in your desertsWe died in your valleys and died on your plainsWe died 'neath your trees and we died in your bushesBoth sides of the river, we died just the same.CHORUSA sky plane caught fire over Los Gatos canyonLike a fireball of lightning, it shook all our hillsWho are all these friends, all scattered like dry leaves?The radio says they are 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 to rot on my topsoilAnd be called by no name except deportees?
