Luyện nghe bài hát Deportees (Plane Wreck at Los Gatos)

Lyrics by Woody
Music by Hoffman

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

My father's own father, he wanted that
They took all the he made in his life
My brothers and come working the fruit trees
And they rode the truck till they took down and

Good-bye to my Juan, Rosalita
Adios mis amigos, Jesus y
You won't have a when you ride the big air-plane
And all they call you will be deportees.

Some of us are illega, and not wanted
Our work contract's out and we have to on
But it's six miles to that Mexican border
They chase us like outlaws, rustlers, like theives.

We in your hills, we died in your deserts
We died in your valleys and on your plains
We died 'neath your trees and we died in bushes
Both sides of the river, we died the same.

A sky plane caught fire over Los Gatos
Like a of lightning, it shook all our hills
Who are all these friends, all scattered like dry
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 dry leaves to rot on my topsoil
And be called by no name deportees?