My first true love was a girl named Sharon She was raised in Santa Rosa, California An area known for fertile farming and wine And this story may have been titled The Wine of Innocence But upon years of reflection, it has taken a deeper, fuller taste When I met Sharon, she was living near Buellton, California She was 19 As I drove into town, I saw her resting with a brunette Leaning on the hood of a black car Later I saw her at my friend Dan Holmes' house I was visiting Dan for the weekend, he had a small get-together Music was playing, people were drinking, flirting, wasting time It was summer Someone made the kitchen into a small dance floor and three of us were dancing I stepped on Sharon's foot She quickly unloaded a vicious lashing on me And I was hooked I later found that her father worked for the state of California in Sacramento and that her mother lived in Santa Rosa But they were separated I would visit her for a time while she lived in Buellton And we would walk along dried riverbeds, talk, argue, make love Drive out to the sea and as the world revealed itself to me Sharon unfolded It was only a few months until she moved back to Santa Rosa with her mother Her money had run out and she went back to community college with free rent and a waitress job I'd visit her up north and she would walk me down St. John street where she was raised And show me the abandoned house she grew up in