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 gra*s of home. Yes, they'll all come to meet me, arms reaching, smiling sweetly. It's good to touch the green, green gra*s of home. The old house is still standing tho' the paint is cracked and dry, and there's that old oak tree I used to play on. Down the lane I walk with my sweet Mary, hair of gold and lips like cherries. It's good to touch the green, green gra*s of home. Yes, they'll all come to meet me, arms reaching, smiling sweetly. It's good to touch the green, green gra*s of home. [spoken:] Then I awake and look around me, at four grey wall surround me and I realize that I was only dreaming. For there's a guard and there's a sad old padre - arm in arm we'll walk at daybreak. Again I touch the green, green gra*s 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 gra*s of home.