The old home town looks the same,

As I step down from the train,

And there i meet my mamma and 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.



[Chorus]

Yes, they'll all come to meet me,

Arms a-reachin', smilin' 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.



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 all come to see me..into shade of that old, old tree

As they lay me meet my green green grass of home.

Writer : BACHARACH, BURT F/DAVID, HAL
Copyright : Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing