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