Tom: D
D G D
The crops are all in and the peaches are rotting,
G D
the oranges are packed in their creosote dumps.
G D Bm
They're flying 'me back to the Mexico border,
D Bm G D
to pay all your money to wade back again.
D G D
My father's own father, he waded that river,
G D
they took all the money he made in his life.
G D Bm
My brothers and sisters came workin' the fruit trees,
D Bm G D
they rode the trucks 'till they laid down and died.
G D
Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita,
A D D7
adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria.
G D Bm
You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane,
D Bm G D
and all they will call you will be "deportees."
D G D
Some of us are eager, and others not wanted,
G D
a work contract's out, he he has to move on.
G D Bm
Six hundred miles to the Mexico border,
D Bm G D
they chased us like outlaws, like wrestlers and thieves.
D G D
We died in your hills and we died on your deserts,
G D
we died in your valleys, we died on your plains.
G D Bm
We died in your trees and we died in your bushes,
D Bm G D
both sides of the river we died just the same.
D G D
The skyplane caught fire over Los Gatos Canyon,
G D
a fireball of lightnin' an' it shook all the hills.
G D Bm
Who are these comrades, they're dying like the dry leaves?
D Bm G D
The radio says, "They are just deportees."
D G D
Is this the best way we can grow our big orchards?
G D
Is this the best way we can grow our good fruit?
G D Bm
To fall like the dry leaves and rot on your topsoil,
D Bm G D
and be known by no name except "deportees."
