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

Lyrics by Guthrie
Music by Hoffman

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

My father's own father, he wanted that
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 down and

Good-bye to my Juan, Rosalita
Adios mis amigos, y Maris
You won't have a when you ride the big air-plane
And all will 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 hundred miles to that Mexican
chase us like outlaws, like rustlers, like theives.

We died in your hills, we 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 fireball of lightning, it 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 this the best way we can grow our fruit?
To fall like dry leaves to rot on my
And be called by no name deportees?