Take the long winding road rising up from the sea
To a place where the roots of my family run deep
On the side of this mountain my grandfathers sleep
In this place I call home
In this place where my mother and father were born

I would join them in time, on a neighbor island shore
On the road from the start, where I lived all these years
But right next to my heart there's a place for you here

Hôlualoa In the heart of Hualâlai
At the top of the road that winds from the sea to the sky
Laid back cool in the coffee trees
Ridin' high on a Kona breeze
The roadside ginger no longer there but fragrance lingers in the air
The giant mangos still hold on In places where they're left alone
Cotton clouds bring gentle rains and rainbows greet the sun again
Hôlualoa, Hôlualoa, Hôlualoa, this place I call home

That long winding road brought me home from the sea
To a love kept alive in a young child's memory
Where Mâmalahoa highway and Hualâlai meet
Either way, it's a place I call home

There are times when it seems nothing changed from before
People still talkin' story by the ol' Paul's Place store
The mauka road is lined with prideful walls of hand set stone
In this place I call home ...
Hôlualoa Hôlualoa

The composer's mother wrote the very visual chorus which includes the roadside ginger no longer there, only the fragrance lingers in the air. She passed away the day before her 63rd birthday and it took Gordon years to realize that the ginger blossoms were the people and the fragrance was a lingering memory of those who had passed on. Giant mango trees represented the old folks still hanging on in those hills.