The Old Hometown
The old hometown looks the same
As I step down from the train
And there to meet me
Is my mama and my 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'll all come to meet me,
arms reaching, smiling sweetly.
It's so 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 carved my name on.
Down the street I walk
with my sweet Mary,
hair of gold and lips like cherries,
it's good to touch
the green, green grass of home.
And then I awake and I look around me
at four gray walls
that surround me and I realize
I realize that I was only dreaming
for there's a guard and
there's a sad old padre
Arm in arm we'll walk at daybreak
And once 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 beneath
As beneath 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 beneath
the green, green grass of home
You