As I reach for a peach, slide a rind down behind, a sofa in San Tropez
breaking a stick with a brick on the sand
riding a wave in the wake of an old sedan
sleeping alone in the drone of the darkness
scratched by the sand that fell from our love
deep in my dreams and I still hear her calling
if you're alone, I'll come ho-ho-home

Backward and homebound, the pigeon, the dove
gone with the wind and the rain on a airplane
owning a home with no silver spoon
I'm drinking champagne like a good tycoon
sooner than wait for a break in the weather
I'll gather my far-flung thoughts together
speeding away on a wind to a new day
if you're alone, I'll come ho-ho-home

And I pause for a while by a country style
and listen to the things they say
digging for gold in the hole in my hand
open a book, take a look at the way things end
and you're leading me down to a place by the sea
I hear your soft voice calling to me
making a date for later by phone
if you're alone, I'll come ho-ho-home

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