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