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 [bad word] Mary.
Hair of gold and lips like cherries
It's good to touchThe green, green grass of home.

Yes, they'll [bad word] to meet me
Arms raching smiling sweetly
It's good to touchThe green, green grass of home.

The old house is still standing,
Tho' 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...

Then Iawake and look around me,
At four green walls, that surround me.
And I realize, I was only dreamig
For there's a guardAnd there's a sad old padre,
Arm in arm we'll walk at daybreak
Again, I'll touchthe green, green grass of home.

Yes, they'll [bad word] to see me
In the shade of that old oak tree
As they lay me
'neath the green, green grass of home.