Luyện nghe bài hát Deportees

( by Woody Guthrie / Music by Martin Hoffman
performance with Ellen Verdries, his mother )

The are all in and the peaches are rotting,
The oranges are piled in creosote dumps.
They're flying you to the Mexico border,
To pay all oranges to wade back again.

My own father, he waded that river,
They took all the money he in his life.
My brothers and sisters come working the trees,
And they rode the trucks till they took and died.

to my Juan, goodbye, Rosalita,
Adios mis amigos, y Maria.
You won't have a when you ride the big airplane,
All will call you will be "deportees".

Some of us are illegal, and are not wanted,
When is out, we've got to move on.
Six hundred to the Mexico border,
They chase us like outlaws, rustlers, like thieves.

We died in your hills, and we in your deserts,
We died in your valleys and on your plains.
We died 'neath your trees and we in your bushes,
sides of the river, we died just the same.

to my Juan, goodbye, Rosalita,
Adios mis amigos, y Maria.
You won't have a name you ride the big airplane,
All they call you will be "deportees".

The sky caught fire over Los Gatos Canyon,
A of lightning, it shook all our hills,
Who are these friends, all scattered like dry
The radio says, "They are deportees".

Is this the best way we can grow our big
Is this the best way we can grow our good
To like dry leaves and rot on our topsoil,
To be known by no name "deportees"?

to my Juan, goodbye, Rosalita,
Adios mis amigos, y Maria.
You won't a name when you ride the big airplane,
All they will you will be "deportees".
All will call you will be "deportees".