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

Lyrics by Guthrie
Music by Martin

The crops are all in and the peaches are
The oranges are in their cresote dumps
They're flying you back to the border
To pay all your money to back again

My own father, he wanted that river
They took all the money he in his life
My and sisters come working the fruit trees
And they rode the truck till they took and died

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

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

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

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