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Byrds, The

Deportee

306,00 прямо сейчас

Текст песни Byrds, The - Deportee

Byrds, The - Deportee слова песни


Words by Woody Guthrie
Music by Martin Hoffman

The crops are all in and the peaches are rotting
The oranges piled up in their creosote dumps
You`re flying `em back to the Mexican border
To spend all their money to wade back again
Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita
Adios mis amigos Jesus y Maria
You wont 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 contracts up and we have to move on
600 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 wont 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, shook all our hills
Who are all these friends who are scattered like dry leaves
The radio said they were just "deportees"
Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita
Adios mis amigos Jesus y Maria
You wont have a name when you ride the big airplane
All they will call you will be "deportees"

REPEAT

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