Luyện nghe bài hát Deportees

( Words by Woody / Music by Martin Hoffman
Live performance with Verdries, his mother )

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

My father's own father, he waded river,
took all the money he made in his life.
My brothers and sisters come working the trees,
And they rode the trucks till they took and died.

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

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

We died in your hills, and we in your deserts,
We died in valleys and died on your plains.
We died 'neath your trees and we in your bushes,
Both sides of the river, we 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 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 like dry leaves?
The says, "They are just deportees".

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

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".
All they will you will be "deportees".