Luyện nghe bài hát Deportees

( Words by Woody Guthrie / Music by Hoffman
Live performance with Verdries, his mother )

The crops are all in and the are rotting,
The oranges are piled in their dumps.
They're flying you back to the border,
To pay all your to wade back again.

My father's own father, he waded river,
They took all the money he in his life.
My and sisters come working the fruit trees,
And rode the trucks till they took down and died.

to my Juan, goodbye, Rosalita,
Adios mis amigos, y Maria.
You won't have a name when you the big airplane,
All they call you will be "deportees".

Some of us are illegal, and are not wanted,
When contract is out, we've got to on.
Six hundred miles to the border,
They chase us like outlaws, like rustlers, thieves.

We died in hills, and we died in your deserts,
We died in valleys and died on your plains.
We died 'neath trees and we died in your bushes,
Both sides of the river, we just the same.

to my Juan, goodbye, Rosalita,
Adios mis amigos, y Maria.
You have a name when you ride the big airplane,
All they will you will be "deportees".

The sky plane caught over Los Gatos Canyon,
A fireball of lightning, it all our hills,
Who are these friends, all scattered like dry
The says, "They are just deportees".

Is this the best way we can our big orchards?
Is the best way we can grow our good fruit?
To fall dry leaves and rot on our topsoil,
To be known by no name "deportees"?

to my Juan, goodbye, Rosalita,
Adios mis amigos, y Maria.
You won't a name when you ride the big airplane,
All will call you will be "deportees".
All they call you will be "deportees".