The crops are all in. And the peaches are rotting. The oranges piled up. In their creosote dumps. You're flying 'em back. To the Mexican border. To spend all their money.
The crops are all in, the peaches are rotting. The oranges piled in their creosote dumps. They're flying us back to the mexican border. To pay all our money just to wade back again.
Lyrics by Woody Guthrie. Music by Martin Hoffman. . The crops are all in and the peaches are rotting. The oranges are piled in their cresote dumps. They're flying you back to the Mexico border.