Luyện nghe bài hát Plane Wreck At Los Gatos

(Deportee)

The crops are all in and the are rott'ning,
The oranges piled in their dumps;
flying 'em back to the Mexican border
To pay all their money to wade back

to my Juan, goodbye, Rosalita,
Adios mis amigos, y Maria;
You won't your names when you ride the big airplane,
All they call you will be "deportees"

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

of us are illegal, and some are not wanted,
Our work contract's out and we to move on;
Six miles to that Mexican border,
They chase us outlaws, like rustlers, like thieves.

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

The sky plane caught over Los Gatos Canyon,
A of lightning, and shook all our hills,
Who are all these friends, all scattered like dry
The says, "They are just deportees"

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