Joan Baez & Bob Dylan, “Plane Wreck at Los Gatos (Deportee)” Fort Worth, TX, May 16, 1976.
“We’ve died in your hills and we’ve died in your deserts.
We’ve died in your valleys, we’ve died on your plains.
We’ve died ‘neath your trees and we’ve died in your bushes,
Both sides of the river we’ve died just the same…
Some of us are illegal, and others not wanted
Our work contract’s out and we have to move on
But it’s six hundred miles to that Mexican border
They chase us like outlaws, like rustlers, like thieves.
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 the top soil
and be called by no name except “deportee”
Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita
Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria
You won’t have a name when you ride the big airplane
All they will call you will be deportees.”