Diggin’ for gold in a hole in my hand
Open a book, take a look at the way things stand
Ridin’ a wave in the wake of an old sedan
And if you’re alone, I’ll come ho-ho-home
I’ll gather my far-flung thoughts together
And I pause for a while by a country stile
“If you’re alone, I’ll come ho-ho-home”
As I reach for a peach, slide a rind down behind
Scratched by the sand that fell from my love
Diggin’ for gold in a hole in my hand
The sofa in San Tropez
Deep in my dreams and I still hear her callin’
Born in a home with no silver spoon
As I reach for a peach, slide a rind down behind
The sofa in San Tropez
“If you’re alone, I’ll come ho-ho-home”
And if you’re alone, I’ll come ho-ho-home
And you’re leading me down to the place by the sea
The sofa in San Tropez
And I pause for a while by a country stile