Luyện nghe bài hát Deportees

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

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

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

Some of us are illegal, and 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 hills, and we died 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 died the same.

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".

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

Is the best way we can grow our big orchards?
Is the best way we can grow 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 call you will be "deportees".
All they will call you be "deportees".