Well, the crops were all in, and the peaches were rotting
The oranges were packed in their creosote dump
They're flying them back to the Mexico border
To spend all their money and wade back again.
My father's own father, he waded that river
They took all the money he made in his life
My brothers and sisters come work in the fruit trees
They rode that trucks til they took down and died
Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita
Adiós mis amigos, Jesús y María
You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane
And all they will call you will be "Deportee"
Some of us are illegal, and others ain't wanted
Our work contracts out, and we've got to move on
It's six-hundred miles to that Mexican border
They chase us like outlaws, like rustlers, like thieves
And we died in your hills and we died in your deserts
We died in your valleys and 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
Adiós mis amigos, Jesúsy y María
You won't have your name when you ride the big airplane
And all they will call you will be "Deportee"
Well, their sky-plane caught fire over Los Gatos Canyon
A fireball of lightning that shook all our hills
Who were all these friends who lie scattered like a dry leaf?
The radio says they are just 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 topsoil
To be known by no name except "Deportee"
Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita
Adiós mis amigos, Jesús y María
You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane
All they will call you will be "Deportee"
And all they will call you will be "Deportee"