The old home town looks the same,
As I step down from the train,
And there to greet me are my mamma and my poppa;
Down the road I look, and there runs Mary,
Hair of gold, lips like cherries,
It's good to touch the green, green grass of home.
CHORUS:
Yes, they'll all come to meet me,
Arms a-reachin', smilin' sweetly,
It's good to touch the green, green grass of home,
The old house is still standin,
'Though the paint is cracked and dry,
And there's that old oak tree,
That I used to play in.
Down the lane I'll walk with my sweet 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 a sad old padre,
Arm in arm we'll walk at daybreak,
And at last I'll touch the green green grass of home.
