Autoscroll
1 Column 
Text size
Transpose 0
From: Harlan L Thompson <harlant@uhunix.uhcc.Hawaii.Edu> DEPORTEE (PLANE WRECK AT LOS GATOS)- The Byrds
DThe crops are all in and the peGaches are roDtting The oranges are packed in their cA7reosote dDumps D7 You're fGlying them back to the MexDican border To spend all their money, to wA7ade back agDain D7
CHORUS:
GoodbGye to my Juan, good-bDye Rosalita AdiA7os mes amigos, JesDus y MaD7ria You wGon't have a name when you riDde the big airplane And all they will call you will A7be deporDtee
Some of us are illegal, and others not wanted Our work contracts out and we've got to move on Six hundred miles to that Mexican border They chase us like outlaws, like rustlers, like thieves...CHORUS The sky plane caught fire over Los Gatos canyon A fireball of lightning, that shook all our hills Who are all these friends who are scattered like dry leaves' The radio said they were just deportees...CHORUS TWICE EXTRA VERSES: 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 the truck till they took down and died ...CHORUS We died in your hills, we died in 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 the river, we died just the same...CHORUS NOTE: I got most of this from the lyrics archives under Woody Guthrie. It is a Guthrie song, but I figure Byrds fans might like it too. The Byrds only sang the first three verses, but I thought I'd include all the ones in Guthrie's version. (from The Ballad of Easy Rider, 1969) (sent by Harlan at harlant@hawaii.edu)