Текст песни Pink Floyd - 1971 - Meddle - 04. San Tropez

As I reach for a peachSlide a rind down behindThe sofa in San
Tropez.Breakin' a stickwith a brick on the sand.Ridin' a waveIn
the wake of an old sedan.
Sleepin' alone in theDrone of the darkness,Scratched by the sand
thatFell from my love,Deep in my dreams and IStill hear her callin'"If
you're alone,I'll come home."
Backward and homebound,The pigeon, the dove,Gone with the windAnd
the rain, on an airplane.Owning a homeWith no silver spoon,I'm
drinking champagneLike a good tycoon.
Sooner than wait forA break in the weather,I'll gather my far-flungThoughts
together.Speeding awayOn the wind to a new day.And if you're
aloneI'll come home.
And I pause for a whileBy a country styleAnd listen to the things
they say.Diggin' for goldWith a hoe in my hand.Open a bookTake
a look at the way things stand.
And you're leading me downTo the place by the sea.I hear your
soft voiceCalling to me.Making a date forLater by phoneAnd if
you're aloneI'll come home.