text: The crops are all in, the peaches are rotting
  The oranges piled in their creosote dumps
  Theyre flying us back to the Mexican border
  To pay all our money just to wade back again
  Some of us are illegal and some are not wanted
  Our work contracts out and we have to move on
  600 miles to that Mexican border
  They chase us like outlaws, like thieves on the run
  Chorus
  Goodbye to my Juan, good-bye Rosalita
  Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria
  You wont have a name when you ride the big airplane
  All they will call you will be deportee
  The sky plane caught fire over Los Gatos canyon
  A fireball of lightning that shook all the hills
  Who are these friends now all scattered like dry leaves?
  The radio says they are just deportees
  Chorus
  We died in your hills, we died in your deserts
  We died in your valleys and we 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
  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 to rot on the topsoil
  And be called by no name except
  Deportees?
  Chorus