The old home town
Looks the same
As I step down
From the train
And there to meet me
Is my mama and my 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
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
With my sweet Mary
Hair of gold
And lips like cherries
It's good to touch
The green, green grass of home
Yes, they'll all come to see me
Arms reaching
Smiling sweetly
It's good to touch
The green, green grass of home
Then I awake
And look around me
To the cold gray walls
That surround me
And then I realize
I was only dreaming
For there's a guard
And the sad old padre
Arm in arm
I'll walk at daybreak
Again, I'll touch
The green, green grass of home
Yes, they'll all come to see me
In the shade
Of the old oak tree
As they lay me
Neath the green, green grass of home