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Versurile Arlo Guthrie - Deportees (Plane Wreck At Los Gatos)
Versuri Deportees (Plane Wreck At Los Gatos)
Lyrics by Woody Guthrie
Music by Martin Hoffman
The crops are all in and the peaches are rotting
The oranges are piled in their cresote dumps
They're flying you back to the Mexico border
To pay all your money to wade back again
My father's own father, he wanted that river
They took all the money he made in his life
My brothers and sisters come working the fruit
trees
And they rode the truck till they took down and
died
CHORUS
Good-bye to my Juan, good-bye Rosalita
Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maris
You won't have a name when you ride the big
air-plane
And all they will call you will be deportees.
Some of us are illega, and others not wanted
Our work contract's out and we have to move on
But it's six hundred miles to that Mexican border
They chase us like outlaws, like rustlers, like
theives.
We died in your hills, we died in your deserts
We died in your valleys and died on your plains
We died 'neath your trees and we died in your
bushes
Both sides of the river, we died just the same.
CHORUS
A sky plane caught fire over Los Gatos canyon
Like a fireball of lightning, it shook all our
hills
Who are all these friends, all scattered like dry
leaves?
The radio says they are 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 to rot on my topsoil
And be called by no name except deportees?
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