Deportee Judy Collins

The crops are all in and the peaches are rott'ning

The oranges piled in their creosote dumps;

They're flying 'em back to the Mexican border

To pay all their money to wade back again

Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye, Rosalita

Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria;

You won't have your names when you ride the big airplane

All they will call you will be "deportees"

My father's own father, he waded that river

They took all the money he made in his life;

My brothers and sisters come working the fruit trees

And they rode the truck till they took down and died

Some of us are illegal, and some are not wanted