The old home town looks the same,
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As I step down from the train,
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And there to meet me is my mama and my papa.
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Down the road I look, and there comes 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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The old house is still standing,
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Though the paint is cracked and dry,
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And there's the old oak tree 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.
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Yes, they'll all come to see 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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Then I awake and look around me,
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At the four gray walls that surround me,
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And I realize that I was only dreaming.
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For there's a guard, and there's a sad old padre,
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Arm in arm, we'll walk at daybreak.
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Again, I'll touch the green, green grass of home.
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Yes, they'll all come to see me
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In the shade of the old oak tree,
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As they lay me 'neath the green, green grass of home.
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Green, Green Grass Of Home
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Johnny Cash |