The old home town looks the same

As I step down from the train

And there to greet me are my Mamma and my Pappa

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

The old house is still standin

Though the paint is dry and cracking

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 wake up 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