Зелёная трава у моего дома

The old hometown looks the same as I step Down from the train. And there meet me Was my mama and papa. Now they're older and there was Mary, Hair of gold and lips like cherries. It's good to touch the green, green grass of Home. Yes, they look on to me, to me All 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 there 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 wake and look around me At four gray walls that surround me. And I realize, yes, I was only Dreaming. For there's a guard And there's a sad old poetry. On and on we'll walk. At daybreak again, I'll touch the green, Green grass of home. Yes, they look on to see Me in the shade of that old oak Tree as they're leaning 'neath the green, green grass of Home. As they're leaning 'neath the green, Green grass of Home