Luyện nghe bài hát Deportees

( Words by Guthrie / Music by Martin Hoffman
Live performance with Ellen Verdries, his )

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

My father's own father, he that river,
They took all the he made in his life.
My and sisters come working the fruit trees,
And they rode the till they took down and died.

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

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

We died in hills, and we died in your deserts,
We died in your valleys and died on plains.
We died 'neath your trees and we in your bushes,
Both sides of the river, we died 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 will call you be "deportees".

The sky caught fire over Los Gatos Canyon,
A of lightning, it shook all our hills,
Who are these friends, all scattered like dry
The radio says, "They are deportees".

Is this the best way we can our big orchards?
Is this the best way we can grow our good
To like 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 have a name when you ride the big airplane,
All they will you will be "deportees".
All they will call you be "deportees".