The Plane Crash at Los Gatos

The crops are all in, they need us no longer.
The oranges are stacked in the creosote dumps.
They're driving us back to the Mexican border.
It takes all our money to go back again

Goodbye to my friends. Goodbye Rosalita.
Adios mes amigos
Jesus y Maria
You won't have a name
When you fly the big aero plane
All they will call you
Will be deportee.

My father's own father did wade through the Rio.
You took all the money he made in his life.
My sisters and brothers they worked in your fruit fields,
Rode on your trucks, till they laid down and died.

Some of us are illega, and all are not wanted;
Our work contracts out, we must move on
the 600 miles to the Mexican border
They drive us like outlaws, like rustlers, like thieves.

Our sky plane caught fire over the Los Gatos canyon.
Like a fireball it fell to the ground.
Who are those friends lying there like dead leaves?
The radio said they were just deportees.

We died on your hills, and we died in your valleys.
We died on your mountains, and we died neath your bushes
Both sides of your border we died just the same.

Goodbye to my friends. Goodbye Rosalita.
Adios mes amigos
Jesus y Maria
You won't have a name
When you fly the big aero plane
All they will call you
Will be deportee.

Woodie Guthrie [Jill Reilly]