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

Lyrics by Guthrie
by Martin Hoffman

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

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

Good-bye to my Juan, good-bye
Adios mis amigos, Jesus y
You have a name when you ride the big air-plane
And all they will call you be deportees.

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

We died in 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
sides of the river, we died just the same.

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

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