Deportees
19-May-2006
permalink email thisThe Crops are all in and the peaches are rotting
The oranges piled in their creosote dumps
They're flying you back to the Mexican border
To pay all your money to 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
And they rode the truck till they took down and died
(chorus)
Good-bye to my Juan, good-bye Rosalita
Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria
You won't have your names when you ride the big air-plane
All they call you will be deportees
Some of us are illegal, and some are not wanted
Our work contract's out and we have to move move on
Six hundred miles to that Mexican border
They chase us like outlaws, like rustlers, like thieves.
We died in your hills, we died in your deserts
We died in your valleys and died on you plains
We died 'neath your trees and we died in your bushes
Both sides of the river, we died just the same
(chorus)
The sky plane cought fire over Los Gatos canyon
A fireball of lightening, it shook all our hills
Who 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 the topsoil
And be called by no name except deportees?
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