Sierra, Sierra Nevada,
Sierra Neva-a-a-a-a-a-da!
Sierra, Sierra Nevada,
Sierra Neva-a-a-a-a-a-da!
Vast is the land
And the wind tastes like sand.
Stone and cactus:
Other than that,
There's nothing, far and wide, to see.
Cold is the night,
And the day's burning hot.1
Paradise:
You found it
Through blood and sweat alone.
The journey began in Colorado
You drove your wagon away from there,
Towards California, towards the Promised Land.
The hope in your hearts was so great,
But in front of paradise lay trouble and pain,
And many died in hot Death Valley.
Only they who traversed the brutal desert
Were worthy of California's wonder.
Vast is the land
And the wind tastes like sand.
Stone and cactus:
Other than that,
There's nothing, far and wide, to see.
Sierra, Sierra Nevada,
Sierra Neva-a-a-a-a-a-da!
Sierra, Sierra Nevada,
Sierra Neva-a-a-a-a-a-da!
Sierra, Sierra Nevada,
Sierra Neva-a-a-a-a-a-da!
Sierra Neva-a-a-a-a-a-da!
Vast is the land
And the wind tastes like sand.
Stone and cactus:
Other than that,
There's nothing, far and wide, to see.
Sierra, Sierra Nevada,
Sierra Neva-a-a-a-a-a-da!
1. Literally, "glowing hot"