the old home town looks the same,

　　as i step down from the train

　　and there to meet me is my mamma and my poppa

　　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'll all come to meet me, arms areaching, 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'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 awake and look around me,

　　at the four gray walls that surround me,

　　and i realize .yes i was only dreaming,

　　for there's a guard and 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

　　as they lay me neath the green green grass of home