Luyện nghe bài hát Deportees

( Words by Guthrie / Music by Martin Hoffman
Live performance with Verdries, his mother )

The are all in and the peaches are rotting,
The oranges are piled in creosote dumps.
flying you back to the Mexico border,
To pay all your to wade back again.

My own father, he waded that river,
took all the money he made in his life.
My brothers and sisters come the fruit trees,
And they rode the till they took down and died.

to my Juan, goodbye, Rosalita,
Adios mis amigos, y Maria.
You won't have a when you ride the big airplane,
All they call you will be "deportees".

Some of us are illegal, and are not wanted,
When is out, we've got to move on.
Six hundred miles to the border,
They us like outlaws, like rustlers, like thieves.

We died in your hills, and we died in deserts,
We in your valleys and died on your plains.
We died 'neath your and we died in your bushes,
Both of the river, we died just the same.

to my Juan, goodbye, Rosalita,
Adios mis amigos, y Maria.
You won't have a name you ride the big airplane,
All will call you will be "deportees".

The sky plane caught over Los Gatos Canyon,
A fireball of lightning, it all our hills,
Who are these friends, all scattered dry leaves?
The says, "They are just deportees".

Is this the best way we can our big orchards?
Is this the best way we can grow our good
To fall dry leaves and rot on our topsoil,
To be by no name except "deportees"?

to my Juan, goodbye, Rosalita,
Adios mis amigos, y Maria.
You won't have a when you ride the big airplane,
All will call you will be "deportees".
All they call you will be "deportees".