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

Lyrics by Woody
Music by Martin

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

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

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

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

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

A sky caught fire over Los Gatos canyon
a fireball of lightning, it shook all our hills
Who are all friends, all scattered like dry leaves?
The radio says are just deportees.

Is this the best way we can grow our big
Is the best way we can grow our good fruit?
To fall like dry to rot on my topsoil
And be called by no name except