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 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 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 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 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