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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 grass of home.

Yes, they all come to meet me,
 arms reaching, smiling 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 on.

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.

(spoken)
Then I awake and look around me,
at four grey walls that surround me
and I realize -yes-
 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'll touch the green,
 green grass 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 grass of home.

Tom Jones


"Green Green Grass Of Home"
by Tom Jones

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Created February 1, 2006