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