Deportee Christy Moore

The peaches are in and the crops they lie rotten
The oranges are stacked in their creosote dumps
They're driving us back to the Mexican border
It takes all our money to go back again

My father's own father did [?] through that river
You took all the money he made in his life
These sisters and brothers they worked in your fruit field
They rode in your trucks till they lay down and died

Goodbye to my friеnds, goodbye Rosalita
Adios mes amigos, Jesus е Maria
You won't have a name when you ride the big aeroplane
All they will call you will be deportee

Some of us are illegal and most are not wanted
Our work contracts sold and we must move on
The six hundred miles to the Mexican border
You drive us like outlaws like rustlers like thieves

Goodbye to my friends, goodbye Rosalita
Adios mes amigos, Jesus e Maria
You won't have a name when you ride the big aeroplane
All they will call you will be deportee

The sky plane caught fire o'er the Los Gatos valley
Like a fireball of lightning it plunged to the ground
Who are those friends lying round like dead leaves?
The radio said they were just deportees