You know that feeling when a song just stops you in your tracks and takes you somewhere else entirely? That’s exactly what “Green, Green Grass of Home” does to me every single time. It’s like opening a heartfelt letter from someone you haven’t seen in ages. The song tells the story of a man returning to his hometown, painting vivid pictures of familiar faces and places—the old oak tree, sweet Mary, the warm embrace of home. But just when you’re wrapped up in the nostalgia, it hits you with a twist that changes everything.
What’s so special about this song is how it balances joy and sorrow in such a profound way. It makes you think about longing, regret, and the simple comforts we often take for granted. And let’s talk about Tom Jones’s rendition—the depth of emotion in his voice adds layers to the story that words alone couldn’t convey. Every time I listen, I catch something new, a nuance in the lyrics or a subtlety in the melody that resonates on a deeper level.
Did you know that although Tom Jones made it famous, it was originally written by Curly Putman and first recorded by Porter Wagoner? It’s been covered by so many artists, each bringing their own flavor, but the core message remains timeless. It’s one of those songs that feels like an old friend—always there to remind you of where you came from and what truly matters.
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Lyrics
It’s good to touch the 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 mamma and pappa
And 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 a-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
And down the lane I walk with my why 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 a-reaching, smiling sweetly
It’s good to touch the green, green grass of home
Then I awake, and look around
At the grey walls that surround
And I realize that I was o-only dreaming
For there’s a guard and a 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 lay me ‘neath the green, green grass of home