Don GibsonGreen Green Gras Of Home

The old home town looks the same As I step down from a train There to meet me are 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. The old home is still standing Though the paint is cracked and dry 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. Then I awake and look around me At the four grey walls that surround me And I realized, Yes, I was only dreaming For there's a guard, and that 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.
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