The old home town looks the same as I step down from the train,
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and there to meet me is my Mama and Papa.
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Down the road I look and there runs Mary 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, 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 tho' the paint is cracked and dry,
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and there's that old oak tree I used to play on.
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Down the lane I walk with my sweet Mary, 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, arms reaching, smiling sweetly.
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It's good to touch the green, green grass of home.
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[spoken:]
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Then I awake and look around me, at four grey wall 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 touch the green, green grass of home.
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Yes, they'll all come to see me in the shade of that 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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Tom Jones |