Luyện nghe bài hát Deportees

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

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 wade again.

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

to my Juan, goodbye, Rosalita,
Adios mis amigos, y Maria.
You won't have a name 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, got to move on.
Six miles to the Mexico border,
They chase us outlaws, like rustlers, like thieves.

We in your hills, and we died in your deserts,
We in your valleys and died on your plains.
We 'neath your trees and we died in your 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 when 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 these friends, all scattered like dry
The says, "They are just deportees".

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