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 
Serdio, 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.