Bill Anderson
Green, Green Grass Of Home

(Curly Putman)

The old hometown 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 there runs Mary
Hair of gold and lips like cherries
It's 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 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 all come to meet me, arms areaching smiling sweetly
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 realize that I was only dreaming
There's a guard and there's a sad old padre arm in arm we'll walk at daybreak
And 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.

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...


Mirror lyrics:

As they lay me neath 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.
Yes, they'll all come to see me in the shade of that old oak tree

And again I'll touch the green, green grass of home.
There's a guard and there's a sad old padre arm in arm we'll walk at daybreak
And I realize that I was only dreaming
Then I awake and look around me at the four grey walls that surround me

It's good to touch the green, green grass of home.
Yes, they'll all come to meet me, arms areaching smiling sweetly

It's good to touch the green, green grass of home.
Hair of gold and lips like cherries
Down the lane I walk with my sweet Mary
And there's that old oak tree that I used to play on
The old house is still standing though the paint is cracked and dry

It's good to touch the green, green grass of home.
Hair of gold and lips like cherries
Down the road I look and there runs Mary
And there to meet me is my mama and papa
The old hometown looks the same as I step down from the train

(Curly Putman)


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