The Byrds foi uma banda de rock norte-americana formada em 1964 em Los Angeles. Várias de suas músicas são covers de um dos seus maiores ídolos: Bob Dylan. Consistindo em uma mistura entre o folk rock de Bob Dylan e o som pop de The Beatles, a banda é considerada uma das mais importantes e influentes para o rock na década de 1960. Durante sua carreira ajudaram no desenvolvimento de gêneros como folk rock, space rock e rock psicodélico. A banda teve várias formações até o seu final em 1972, após a gravação do álbum Byrds.
Quatro anos de trabalho duro!Neste mês de maio fizemos quatro anos no ar. Continuamos trabalhando na divulgação deste maravilhoso instrumento, obrigado por participar da nossa história!
#----------------------------------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: Harlan L Thompson
DEPORTEE (PLANE WRECK AT LOS GATOS)- The Byrds
DGD The crops are all in and the peaches are rotting A7DD7 The oranges are packed in their creosote dumps GD You're flying them back to the Mexican border A7DD7 To spend all their money, to wade back again
CHORUS: GD Goodbye to my Juan, good-bye Rosalita A7DD7 Adios mes amigos, Jesus y Maria GD You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane A7D And all they will call you will be deportee
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 [email protected])