The crops are all in and the peaches are rotting 
The oranges are packed in their creosote dumps 
They're flying 'em back to that Mexico border 
To take all their money to wade back again 

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 
They rode the big trucks till they lay down and died 

CHORUS 
Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita 
Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria 
You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane 
And all they will call you will be deportee 

Some of us are illegal, and all are not wanted 
Our work contract's out and we've got to move on 
Six hundred miles to that Mexican border 
They chase us like outlaws, like rustlers, like thieves 

We died in your hills, we died in your deserts 
We died in your armies, we died on your plains 
We died 'neath your trees and we died 'neath those bushes 
Both sides of that river, we died just the same 

CHORUS 

The sky plane caught fire over Los Gatos Canyon 
Like a fireball of lightning, it shook all our hills 
Who are all these friends, dying like dry leaves? 
The radio says they are just deportees 

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 rot on my topsoil 
And be known by no name except deportee 

CHORUS