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PostPosted: Fri Mar 09, 2012 7:14 pm
  

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The W!zard

Joined: Aug 25, 1999
Posts: 1044
Images: 117
Location: Leonardtown, MD
Deportee (Plane Wreck At Los Gatos)
words and music by Woody Guthrie, as performed by Arlo Guthrie

Code:
#----------------------------------PLEASE NOTE---------------------------------#
#This file is the author's own work and represents their interpretation of the #
#song. You may only use this file for private study, scholarship, or research. #
#------------------------------------------------------------------------------#

From: Ted Hermary  (czth@musica.mcgill.ca)

VERSE:
         D                        G           D
     The crops are all in and the peaches are rotting
         (D)                      A7     D
     The oranges piled in their creosote dumps
            G                       D
     You're flying them back to the Mexican border
                (D)             A7          D
     To pay all their money, to wade back again


CHORUS: (After each verse)
         G                    D
     Goodbye to my Juan, good-bye Rosalita
        D                 D         
     Adios mes amigos, Jesus and Maria
         G                              D
     You won't have your names when you ride the big airplane
                                 A7       D
     All they will call you will be deportee

2.   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

3.   Some of us are illegal, and some are not wanted
     Our work contracts out and we have to move on
     Six hundred miles to that Mexican border
     They chase us like outlaws, like rustlers, like thieves

4.   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

5.   The sky plane caught fire over Los Gatos canyon
     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

6.   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 like dry leaves, to rot on my topsoil
     And to be called no name, except deportee.


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PostPosted: Sun Aug 31, 2014 5:33 pm
  

BlunderVirgin

Joined: Aug 31, 2014
Posts: 15
Location: Goettingen, Germany
Song is in F, I think.

Deportees Woody Guthrie/Martin Hoffman

(F) The crops are all in, the (Bb)peaches are (F)rotting,
The oranges are piled in their (Bb)creosote (F)dumps.
They're (Bb)flying you back to the (F)Mexico (Dm7)border
To (F)pay all your (Dm7)money, to (Bb)wade back (C)a(F)gain.

My father's own father, he (Bb)waded that (F)river,
They took all the money he (Bb)made in his (F)life.
My (Bb)brothers and sisters come (F)working the (Dm7)fruit trees,
And (F)they rode the (Dm7)trucks till they (Bb)took down (C)and (F)died.

Good(Bb)bye to my Juan, good(F)bye Rosalita,
A(C)dios, mis amigos, Je(F)sus and Maria.
You (Bb)won't have a name when you (F)ride the big (Dm7)airplane,
And (F)all they will (Dm7)call you will (Bb)be de(C)por(F)tees.

Some of us are illegal, and (Bb)others not (F)wanted,
Our work contract's (Dm7)out and we (Bb)have to move (F)on.
(Bb)Six hundred miles to that (F)Mexican (Dm7)border,
They (F)chase us like (Dm7)outlaws, like (Bb)rustlers (C)and (F)thieves.

We died in your hills and we (Bb)died on your (F)deserts,
We died in your (Dm7)valleys, we (Bb)died on your (F)plains,
We (Bb)died 'neath your trees, and we (F)died in your (Dm7)bushes,
Both (F)sides of the (Dm7)river, we've (Bb)died just (C)the (F)same.

Good(Bb)bye to my Juan, good(F)bye Rosalita,
A(C)dios, mis amigos, Je(F)sus and Maria.
You (Bb)won't have a name when you (F)ride the big (Dm7)airplane,
And (F)all they will (Dm7)call you will (Bb)be de(C)por(F)tees.

The sky plane caught fire over (Bb)Los Gatos (F)canyon,
Like a fireball of lightning, it (Bb)shook all our(F) hills.
And (Bb)who are these friends, all (F)scattered like (Dm7)dry leaves?
The (F)radio (Dm7)says they are (Bb)just de(C)por(F)tees.

Is this the best way we can (Bb)grow our big (F)orchards,
Is this the best (Dm7)way we can (Bb)grow our good (F)fruit,
To (Bb)fall like like dry leaves and (F)rot on your (Dm7)topsoil
And (F)be known by (Dm7)no name, ex(Bb)cept de(C)por(F)tees?

Good(Bb)bye to my Juan, good(F)bye Rosalita,
A(C)dios, mis amigos, Je(F)sus and Maria.
You (Bb)won't have a name when you (F)ride the big (Dm7)airplane,
And (F)all they will (Dm7)call you will (Bb)be de(C)por(F)tees.
(Dm7) (Bb) (C) (F)

© Woody Guthrie and Martin Hoffman, All Rights Reserved

This is Arlo Guthrie´s version.

janhauenstein@gmx.de


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