Goodbye, my Juan, goodbye Rosalina
Adios mis amigos, Jesus and Maria
You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane
All they will call you will be deportees
His father's own father waded the river
They took all the money he made in his life
His brothers, sisters came a-workin' the fruit's trees
They rode in the truck 'till they took sick and died
Now, some were illegal, some were not wanted
Their work was done and they had to move on
Six hundred miles to the Mexican border
Chased as if they were outlaws and thieves
Goodbye, my Juan, goodbye Rosalina
Adios mis amigos, Jesus and Maria
You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane
All they will call you will be deportees
They died in your hills, they we died in our deserts
They died in our valleys, they died on our plains
They died 'neath our trees, and they died in our bushes
Both sides of the river, they died just the same
Skyplane caught fire o'er Los Gatos Canyon
A fireball of lightning shook all our hills
Who are these friends all scattered like dry leaves?
The radio said they were just deportees
Goodbye, my Juan, goodbye Rosalina
Adios mis amigos, Jesus and Maria
You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane
All they will call you will be deportees
Is this the best way we grow our big orchards?
Is this the best way we grow our good fruit?
To fall like dry leaves, to rot on our topsoil
And be known by no name except "deportees"
The crops are all in, the peaches are rotting
The oranges burned in their creosote dumps
They flew them back to the Mexico border
No money is needed, they'll never wade back
Goodbye, my Juan, goodbye Rosalina
Adios mis amigos, Jesus and Maria
You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane
All they will call you will be deportees
All they will call you will be... deportees...