The old home town looks the same
as I step down from the train
And there to meet me
is my Mama and Papa.
Down the road I look
and there runs Mary
hair of gold
and lips like cherries.
It's good to touch
the green, green grass of home.
Yes, they'll all come to meet me,
arms reaching, smiling sweetly.
It's good to touch
the green, green grass of home.
The old house is still standing
tho' the paint is cracked and dry
And there's that old oak tree
that I used to play on.
Down the lane I walk
with my sweet Mary,
hair of gold
and lips like cherries.
It's good to touch
the green, green grass of home.
Then I awake and look around me,
at four grey wall surround me.
And I realize that I was only dreaming.
For there's a guard
and there's a sad old padre
Arm in arm we'll walk at daybreak.
Again I touch
the green, green grass of home.
Yes, they'll all come to see me
in the shade of that old oak tree
As they lay me neath
the green, green grass of home.

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