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. 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.
Yes, they'll all come
to meet me,
Arms a-reachin', smilin' sweetly,
It's good to touch the
green, green
grass of home
As they lay me beneath
the green green grass of home
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