The old home town still looks the same
As I step down from the train
Down the lane I look, and there runs Mary
Hair of gold and lips like cherries
the green, green grass of home
Yes, they'll all come to see me
Arms reaching, smiling sweetly
the green, green grass of home
The old homeplace is still standing
Though the paint is cracked and dry
And there's that old oak tree
Down the lane I look, and there runs Mary
Hair of gold and lips like cherries
the green, green grass of home
Then I awake and look around me
To the four gray walls that surround me
Arm in arm, we'll walk at daybreak.
the green, green grass of home
Yes, they'll all come to see me
In the shade of the old oak tree
the green, green grass of home
