"Deportee" lyrics
Mason Via & Lucinda Williams Lyrics
The crops are all in, the peaches are rotting
The oranges are piled in their creosote dump
They're flying you back to the Mexico border
To pay all your money to wade back again
My father's own father, he waded 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
Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye, Rosalita
Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria
You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane
And all they will call you will be "deportees"
Some of us are illegal, and others not wanted
Our work contract's out and we have to move on
Six hundred miles to the Mexico border
They chase us like outlaws, like rustlers, and thieves
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
Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye, Rosalita
Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria
You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane
And all they will call you will be "deportees"
A sky plane caught fire over Los Gatos Canyon
Like a fireball of lightning, and shook all our hills
Who are 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"?
Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye, Rosalita
Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria
You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane
And all they will call you will be "deportees"
The oranges are piled in their creosote dump
They're flying you back to the Mexico border
To pay all your money to wade back again
My father's own father, he waded 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
Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye, Rosalita
Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria
You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane
And all they will call you will be "deportees"
Some of us are illegal, and others not wanted
Our work contract's out and we have to move on
Six hundred miles to the Mexico border
They chase us like outlaws, like rustlers, and thieves
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
Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye, Rosalita
Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria
You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane
And all they will call you will be "deportees"
A sky plane caught fire over Los Gatos Canyon
Like a fireball of lightning, and shook all our hills
Who are 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"?
Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye, Rosalita
Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria
You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane
And all they will call you will be "deportees"
