green, green grass of home

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 serrt 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 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.