The Green Green Grass Of Home by Retaliator
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.
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