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