Green green grass of home - Tom Jones

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. 

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, 
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. 

Then I awake and look around me 
At four grey walls that surround me 
And I realize, 
Yes, I was only dreaming. 
For there´s a guard 
And there´s a sad, old padre, 
On and on, 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.