Tom Jones
Green Green Grass Of Home

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 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 good to touch the 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 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 reaching, smiling sweetly.
It's good to touch the green, green grass of home.

[Spoken]
Then I awake and look around me
At four gray walls that surround me
And I realize - yes - 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.
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'll lay me neath the green, green grass of home.


Mirror lyrics:

As they'll 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

Again I'll touch the green, green grass of home.
Arm in arm we'll walk at daybreak.
For there's a guard and there's a sad old padre
And I realize - yes - that I was only dreaming.
At four gray walls that surround me
Then I awake and look around me
[Spoken]

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 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 I used to play on.
The old house is still standing tho' the paint is cracked and dry,
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 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 home town looks the same as I step down from the train,


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