Luyện nghe bài hát Deportees

( Words by Woody / Music by Martin Hoffman
performance with Ellen Verdries, his mother )

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

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

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

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

We in your hills, and we died in your deserts,
We in your valleys and died on your plains.
We died 'neath trees 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 a name when you ride the big airplane,
All they will 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 radio says, "They are deportees".

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

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".
All they will call you be "deportees".