Sergio came to California
In the days after the war
So long ago
Bought some land
Thought to plant a vineyard
Like the one he used to know
So long ago
The sleepy valley was a land of farms and horses
He brought his family to the house that he built all alone
He drove the tractor, fixed the sprinklers, loaded boxes
Sold his wine from a van
His reputation soon began to grow
Sergio, with grapemust on his overalls
Acaccia in his hair
Memories flow
In his mind, another country far away
With music in the air
So long ago
His wooden vats have turned to towers of gleaming metal
For Pinot Noir and Syrah, Cabernet, Chardonnay
They're entered into competitions, winning medals
Advertised on TV
They're calling him the patriarch today
Sergio, puts a weathered hand on the labeling machine
The day's almost done
Looks outside, beyond the barrels
To the rows of vines in brown and green
The last of the sun
Sergio, came to California
In the years after the war
So long ago
Brought some land
Thought to plant a vineyard
Like the ones he used to know
So long ago