If anyone wants a pirated MP3 of either Billy Bragg or Arlo Guthrie doing
this, get in touch with me offline.
Proud to supply it =)
Macdonald
----- Original Message -----
From: "Carrol Cox" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]>
To: <[EMAIL PROTECTED]>
Sent: Saturday, July 29, 2000 3:45 PM
Subject: [CrashList] Deportee by W Guthrie, was Re: Communist
Internationalist Position on Immigration and
> Tony Abdo wrote:
>
> > Ken, you state the case succintly..... immigrants must be stopped from
> > arriving, otherwise all us US workers are going straight to Hell. And
> > you quote the Book of Marx to do it!
>
> [For anyone who didn't read the original, Tony is being sarcastic]
>
> After making the decision to stop immigration, the next problem is
> how to do it. Guthrie had a suggestion.(He wrote the words after he
> had become too ill to perform. No music by Guthrie himself exists for
> the piece.)
>
> DEPORTEE
>
> The crops are all in and the peaches are rotting,
> The oranges are piled in their creosote dumps.
> You are flying them back to the Mexican border
> To pay all their money to wade back again.
>
> Goodbye my to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita,
> Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria.
> You won't have a name when you fly the big airplane
> And all they will call you will be deportee.
>
> My father's own father he waded that river,
> They stole all the money he made in his life.
> My sisters and brothers come working the fruit trees
> And rode the truck til they took down and died.
>
> Goodbye my to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita,
> Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria.
> You won't have a name when you fly the big airplane
> And all they will call you will be deportee.
>
> Some of us are illegal and some are not wanted.
> Our work contract's out and we have to move on
> Six hundred miles to the Mexican border.
> They chase us like outlaws, like rustlers, like thieves.
>
> Goodbye my to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita,
> Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria.
> You won't have a name when you fly the big airplane
> And all they will call you will be deportee.
>
> 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.
>
> Goodbye my to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita,
> Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria.
> You won't have a name when you fly the big airplane
> And all they will call you will be deportee.
>
> The sky plane caught fire over Los Gatos Canyon --
> ` A fireball of lightning which shook all our hills,
> Who are all these friends all scattered like dry leaves?
> The radio says they are just . . . deportees.
>
> Goodbye my to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita,
> Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria.
> You won't have a name when you fly the big airplane
> And all they will call you will be deportee.
>
> 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, to rot on my topsoil
> And be called by no name except deportees?
>
> Goodbye my to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita,
> Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria.
> You won't have a name when you fly the big airplane
> And all they will call you will be deportee.
>
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