San Tropez - David Gilmour, Roger Waters

    As I reach for a peach
    Slide a line 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 my love
    Deep in my dreams and I still hear her calling
    If you're alone, I'll come 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 a wind to a new day
    If you're alone, I'll come home

    And I'll pause for a while by a country stile
    And listen to the things they say
    Digging for gold in hole in my hand
    Open the 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 home

    Marco Giunco
    Work Basket Music Words