Luyện nghe bài hát Deportees

( Words by Woody Guthrie / Music by Hoffman
Live with Ellen Verdries, his mother )

The are all in and the peaches are rotting,
The oranges are in their creosote dumps.
They're flying you to the Mexico border,
To pay all your oranges to wade again.

My own father, he waded that river,
They took all the money he in his life.
My brothers and sisters come the fruit trees,
And they rode the trucks they took down and died.

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

of us are illegal, and some are not wanted,
When contract is out, got to move on.
Six miles to the Mexico border,
They us like outlaws, like rustlers, like thieves.

We in your hills, and we died in your deserts,
We died in your and died on your plains.
We died 'neath your trees and we died in bushes,
sides of the river, we died just the same.

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

The sky plane caught fire Los Gatos Canyon,
A fireball of lightning, it all our hills,
Who are friends, all scattered like dry leaves?
The radio says, "They are deportees".

Is this the best way we can our big orchards?
Is the best way we can grow our good fruit?
To fall like dry and rot on our topsoil,
To be by no name except "deportees"?

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