| The crops are all in
|
| And the peach trees are rotting
|
| The oranges are piled
|
| In their creosote dumps
|
| You’re flying them back
|
| To the Mexican border
|
| To spend all their money
|
| To wade back again
|
| Goodbye to you Juan
|
| Goodbye Rosalita
|
| Goodbye mis amigo, Jesus and Maria
|
| You won’t have a name
|
| When you fly the big airplane
|
| All they will call you is just «deportees»
|
| My father’s own father, he waded that river
|
| Well it took all the money that he made in his life
|
| My sisters and brothers can work in the fruit trees
|
| And they road in the truck till they ???
|
| Goodbye to you Juan
|
| Goodbye Rosalita
|
| Goodbye mi amigo, Jesus and Maria
|
| You won’t have a name
|
| When you fly the big airplane
|
| All they will call you is just «deportees»
|
| Some of us are illegal
|
| And some not wanted
|
| Our work contract’s up
|
| And we have to move on
|
| Six hundred miles to the Mexican border
|
| They chase us like outlaws
|
| Like rustlers, like thieves
|
| Goodbye to you Juan
|
| Goodbye Rosalita
|
| Goodbye mi amigo, Jesus and Maria
|
| You won’t have a name
|
| When you fly the big airplane
|
| All they will call you is just «deportees»
|
| Well we died in your hills and we died in your deserts
|
| And we died in your valleys and we died on your plains
|
| We died neath your trees and we died neath your bushes
|
| Both sides of the river, we die just the same
|
| Goodbye to you Juan
|
| Goodbye Rosalita
|
| Goodbye mi amigo, Jesus and Maria
|
| You won’t have a name
|
| When you fly the big airplane
|
| All they will call you is just «deportees»
|
| The skyplane caught fire
|
| Over Los Gatos Canyon
|
| A fireball of lightning
|
| Shook all our hills
|
| Who are all those people all scattered like dry leaves?
|
| The radio said they were just «deportees»
|
| Is this the best way we can grow our big orchards?
|
| Is this the best way we can grow our good fruit?
|
| To fall like dry leaves and rot on your topsoil
|
| Be called by no name except deportee
|
| Goodbye to you Juan
|
| Goodbye Rosalita
|
| Goodbye mi amigo, Jesus and Maria
|
| You won’t have a name
|
| When you fly the big airplane
|
| All they will call you is just «deportees» |