The crops are all in, the peaches are rotting
The oranges are piled in their creosote dumps
Theyre flying you back to the mexico border
To pay all your money to wade back again
My fathers own father, he waded that river
They took all the money he made in his life
My brothers and sisters they work in the fruit trees
They rode the truck till they took down and died
Good-bye to my juan, good-bye rosalita
Adios mes amigos, jesus e maria
You wont have a name when you ride the big airplane
And all they will call you will be deportee
Some of us are illegal, and some are not wanted
Our work contracts out and we have to move on
Six hundred miles to the mexican border
They chase us like rustlers, like outlaws, like thieves.
We died in your hills. we died on your deserts.
Weve died in your mountains, and died on your plains.
Weve died neath your trees, and weve died in your bushes.
Both sides of the river, weve died just the same.
Good-bye to my juan, good-bye rosalita
Adios mes amigos, jesus e maria
You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane
And all they will call you will be deportee
The skyplane caught fire over los gatos canyon
A fireball of lightning that shook all our hills
Who were all these dear friends all scattered like dry leaves?
The radio says they were just deportees.
Is this the best way we can grow our big orchards?
And is this the best way we can grow our good fruit?
To fall like dry leaves and rot on the top soil,
And be known by no name except deportee.
Good-bye to my juan, good-bye rosalita
Adios mes amigos, jesus e maria
You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane
And all they will call you will be deportee
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