text: As I reach for a peach, slide a rind down behind
  The sofa in San Tropez
  Breakin’ a stick with a brick on the sand
  Ridin’ a wave in the wake of an old sedan
  Sleepin’ alone in the drone of the darkness
  Scratched by the sand that fell from my love
  Deep in my dreams and I still hear her callin’
  “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 an airplane
  Born in 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 the wind to a new day
  If you’re alone, I’ll come ho-ho-home
  And I pause for a while by a country stile
  And listen to the things they say
  Diggin’ for gold in a hole in my hand
  Open a book, take a look at the way things stand
  And you’re leading me down to the place by the sea
  I hear your soft voice calling to me
  Making a date for later by phone
  And if you’re alone, I’ll come ho-ho-home