Luyện nghe bài hát Deportees

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

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

My father's own father, he that river,
took all the money he made in his life.
My and sisters come working the fruit trees,
And they rode the trucks till they 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 they will call you be "deportees".

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

We in your hills, and we died in your deserts,
We died in valleys and died on your plains.
We 'neath your trees and we died 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 a name when you ride the big airplane,
All they will you will be "deportees".

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

Is this the best way we can grow our big
Is this the way we can grow 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 when you the big airplane,
All will call you will be "deportees".
All will call you will be "deportees".