| Lyrics: | Woody GuthrieMartin Hoffman
The crops are all in and the peaches are rott'ning.
The
oranges are piled in their creosote dumps.
They're flying them back to the Mexico border
To
take all their money to wade back again.
Chorus:
Goodbye to my one, farewell
Roselita,
Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria.
You won't have a name when you ride the big
airplane.
All they will call you is just deportee.
My father's own father, he waded
that river.
They took all the money he made in his life.
It's six hundred miles to the
Mexican border
And they chased him like rustlers, like outlaws, like thieves.
The
airplane caught fire over Los Gatos Canyon,
A great ball of fire that shook all the
hills.
Who are these friends who are falling like dry leaves?
The radio said, |
