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.
REFRAIN
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.
(spoken) {same progression}
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.