Plane Wreck at Los Gatos [Deportee]
The crops are all in and
The peaches are rotting
The oranges are packed in the creosote dumps
They're flying you back to the Mexico border
To pay all your money to wade back again
Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita
Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria
You won't have a name when
You ride the big airplane
All they will call you will be deportees
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
They rode the big trucks till
They lay down and die
Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita
Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria
You won't have a name when
You ride the big airplane
All they will call you will be deportees
The skyplane caught fire over
Los Gatos Canyon a fireball of lightning
And it shook all the hills
Who are these comrades that died
Like the dry leaves
The radio tells me they're just 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
All they will call you will be deportees
We died in your hills and
We died in your deserts
We died in your valleys we
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
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 but it's six hundred miles
To that Mexican border
They chase us like outlaws, like rustlers
Like thieves
Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita
Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria
You won't have a name when
You ride the big airplane
All they will call you will be 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 the top soil
And be called by no name except "deportee"
Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita
Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria
You won't have a name when
You ride the big airplane
All they will call you will be deportees