Текст песни The Byrds - Deportee
The Byrds - Deportee слова песни
Words by Woody GuthrieMusic by Martin HoffmanThe crops are all in and the peaches are rottingThe oranges piled up in their creosote dumpsYou`re flying `em back to the Mexican borderTo spend all their money to wade back againGoodbye to my Juan, goodbye RosalitaAdios mis amigos Jesus y MariaYou wont have a name when you ride the big airplaneAll they will call you will be "deportees"Some of us are illegal, and others not wantedOur work contracts up and we have to move on600 miles to that Mexican borderThey chase us like outlaws, like rustlers, like thievesGoodbye to my Juan, goodbye RosalitaAdios mis amigos Jesus y MariaYou wont have a name when you ride the big airplaneAll they will call you will be "deportees"The skyplane caught fire over Los Gatos CanyonA fireball of lightning, shook all our hillsWho are all these friends who are scattered like dry leavesThe radio said they were just "deportees"Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye RosalitaAdios mis amigos Jesus y MariaYou wont have a name when you ride the big airplaneAll they will call you will be "deportees"REPEAT