The crops are all in and the peaches are rotting
The oranges are stacked in their creosote dumps
They're flying them back to that Mexico border
To pay all their wages to wade back again
Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye, Rosalita
Adios mi amigo, Jesus and Maria
You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane
And all they will call you will be "deportees"
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
And they rode on the trucks 'til they took down and died
Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye, Rosalita
Adios mi amigo, Jesus and Maria
You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane
And all they will call you will be "deportees"
Well some are illegal, and some are not wanted
Our work contract's out, and we've got to move on
Six hundred miles to that Mexico border
They chase us like outlaws, like rustlers, like thieves
Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye, Rosalita
Adios mi amigo, Jesus and Maria
You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane
And all they will call you will be "deportees"
We died in your hills, and we died on your deserts
We died in your valleys and died on your plains
We died 'neath your trees, and we died in your bushes
Both sides of that river, we died just the same
Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye, Rosalita
Adios mi amigo, Jesus and Maria
You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane
And all they will call you will be "deportees"
The sky plane caught fire over Los Gatos Canyon
Like a fireball of lightning and shook all our hills
Who are all these friends, all scattered like dry leaves?
The radio says, "they are just deportees"
Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye, Rosalita
Adios mi amigo, Jesus and Maria
You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane
And all they will call you will be "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 mi amigo, Jesus and Maria
You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane
And all they will call you will be "deportees"