Deporteeby Woody Guthrie & Martin HoffmaThe crops are all in, and the peaches are rottenThe oranges are packed in the creosote dumpsThey're flying us back to the Mexico borderTo pay all our money to wade back againGoodbye to my Juan, goodbye RosalitaAdios mi amigos, Jesus and MariaYou won't have a name when you ride the big aeroplaneAll they will call you will be DeporteeNow my father's own father, he waded that river they took all the money her made in his life six hundred miles to the Mexico borderThey chased us like rustlers, like outlaws, like thievesGoodbye to my Juan, goodbye RosalitaAdios mis amigos, Jesus and Maria you won't have a name when you ride the big aeroplaneNo, all they will call you will be DeporteeThe sky-plane caught fire, over Los Gatos Canyon A big ball of fire, it shook all the groundWho are these friends who are falling like dry leavesThe radio said they were just deporteesGoodbye to my Juan, goodbye RosalitaAdios mis amigos, Jesus and MariaYou won't have a name when you ride the big aeroplane. No, all they will call you will be DeporteeBut we died in your hills, we died in your valleysWe died in your orchards, we died on your plainsWe died on your deserts, we died in your treetopsBoth sides of the river we died just the sameGoodbye to my Juan, goodbye RosalitaAdios mis amigos, Jesus and Maria You won't have a name when you ride the big aeroplane. No, all they will call you will be Deportee 1948