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 a reaching, smiling sweetly;
It‘s good to touch the green, green grass of home.
The old house is still standing, though the paint is cracked and dry,
And there‘s that old oak tree that I used to play on;
Down the lane I walk and with my sweet Mary, hair of gold an lips like cherries
It‘s good to touch the green, green grass of home.
Then I awake and look around me at the four gray walls that surround me
And I realize that I was only dreaming.
For there‘s a guard and there‘s a sad old padre.
Arm and arm we‘ll walk at daybreak -
Again I‘ll 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.
