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The[D] crops are all in and the[G] peaches are[D] rotting
The oranges are filed in their[A7] creosote[D] dumps
They're[G]
flying 'em back to the[D] Mexico border
To take all their money to[A7] wade back again
[G]Goodbye to my Juan, farewell[D]
Roselita
[A7]Adios mis amigos,[D] Jesus y Maria
You[G] won't have a name when you[D] ride the big airplane
All they
will call you will[A7] be depor[D]tees
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 Mexico border
And they chased them like rustlers, like outlaws, like thieves
The
skyplane caught fire over Los Gatos Canyon
The great ball of fire it shook all our hills
Who are these dear friends
who are falling like dry leaves?
Radio said, "They are just deportees"
Is this the best way we can grow our big
orchards?
Is this the best way we can raise our good crops?
To fall like dry leaves and rot on out topsoil
And be
known by no names except "deportees"
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