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Deportees (Plane Wreck At Los Gatos)

This song is by Arlo Guthrie and appears on the album Arlo Guthrie (1974).

Lyrics by Woody Guthrie
Music by Martin Hoffman

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

Good-bye to my Juan, good-bye Rosalita
Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria
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 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 and we died on your deserts
We died in your valleys we died on your plains
We died in your trees and we died in your bushes
Both sides of the river, we've died just the same

Good-bye to my Juan, good-bye Rosalita
Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria
You won't have a name when you ride the big air-plane
And all they will call you will be deportees

The sky-plane caught fire over Los Gatos Canyon
Like a fireball of lightning, it shook all our hills
And 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 and rot on your topsoil
And be known by no name except deportees?

Good-bye to my Juan, good-bye Rosalita
Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria
You won't have a name when you ride the big air-plane
And all they will call you will be deportees

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