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  The old home town looks the   same a  s I step down from   the train
  And there to meet me is my mama and   papa;
  Down t  he ro  ad I look and th  ere runs Mary,
  hair of go  ld and li  ps like c  herrie  s,
  it's good to touch the   green,   green   grass of   home  .    
  Yes, t  hey'll a  ll come to m  eet me arms a-r  eaching, smiling sweetly;
  It's g  ood to touch the g  reen, green g  rass o  f hom  e.
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 t  he la  ne I walk and with my   sweet Mary,
  hair of go  ld an lip  s like cher  ries   
  it's g  ood to touch the g  reen, green g  rass o  f hom  e.         
(Parlé :)
Then I awake and look around me at the four gray walls that surround me and I
realize that I was only dreaming. For there's a guard and there's a sad old
padre. Arm and arm we'll walk at daybreak - again I'll touch the green, green
grass of home
  Yes, t  hey'll a  ll come to s  ee me in the s  hade of that old oak tr  ee;
  As they   lay me 'neath the   green, green   grass   of ho  me.                   


[anonyme], version 1.0


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Version : 1.0
Dernière modification : 2005-11-19
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