In Bonfigliara
In the village of my father
We hunt chingale
We roast castanas
In Bonfigliara
In the village of my father
We hunt chingale
We roast castanas
In the providence of Imperia
In the region of Liguria
Bonfigliara
Village of my father
1700 kilometers away from the town of Ranzo
The winding road is so narrow
You have to honk around corners for cars cause you can't see em
Halfway up
The mausoleum where my grandparents rest
But the best part is the steady climb
I can already smell the wine the basil the coffee the bread
My head gets warm my heart slows down a pace
The village greets us
The loving looks on my family's face