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
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
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