Luyện nghe bài hát Deportees

( Words by Woody Guthrie / by Martin Hoffman
performance with Ellen Verdries, his mother )

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

My father's own father, he waded river,
They took all the he made in his life.
My brothers and sisters come working the 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 when you ride the big airplane,
All will call you will be "deportees".

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

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

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

The sky plane fire over Los Gatos Canyon,
A of lightning, it shook all our hills,
Who are these friends, all scattered dry leaves?
The says, "They are just deportees".

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

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