歌曲 | Green, Green Grass Of Home - Live |
歌手 | Johnny Cash |
专辑 | At Folsom Prison (Live) |
下载 | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Putman | |
The old home town looks the same | |
As I step down from the train | |
And there to meet me is my mama and my papa | |
Down the road | |
I look, and there runs | |
MaryHair of gold and lips like cherries | |
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 | |
MaryHair of gold and lips like cherries | |
It's good to touch the green, green grass of home | |
Yes, they'll all come to see me | |
Arms reaching, smiling sweetly | |
It's good to touch the green, green grass of home | |
Then I awake and look around me | |
To the cold gray walls that surround me | |
And then I realize | |
I was only dreaming | |
For there's a guard, and the sad old padre | |
Arm in arm, | |
I walk at daybreak | |
Again, I touch the green, green grass of home | |
Yes, they'll all come to see me | |
In the shade of the old oak tree | |
As they lay me 'neath the green, green grass of home |
zuo ci : Putman | |
The old home town looks the same | |
As I step down from the train | |
And there to meet me is my mama and my papa | |
Down the road | |
I look, and there runs | |
MaryHair of gold and lips like cherries | |
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 | |
MaryHair of gold and lips like cherries | |
It' s good to touch the green, green grass of home | |
Yes, they' ll all come to see me | |
Arms reaching, smiling sweetly | |
It' s good to touch the green, green grass of home | |
Then I awake and look around me | |
To the cold gray walls that surround me | |
And then I realize | |
I was only dreaming | |
For there' s a guard, and the sad old padre | |
Arm in arm, | |
I walk at daybreak | |
Again, I touch the green, green grass of home | |
Yes, they' ll all come to see me | |
In the shade of the old oak tree | |
As they lay me ' neath the green, green grass of home |
zuò cí : Putman | |
The old home town looks the same | |
As I step down from the train | |
And there to meet me is my mama and my papa | |
Down the road | |
I look, and there runs | |
MaryHair of gold and lips like cherries | |
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 | |
MaryHair of gold and lips like cherries | |
It' s good to touch the green, green grass of home | |
Yes, they' ll all come to see me | |
Arms reaching, smiling sweetly | |
It' s good to touch the green, green grass of home | |
Then I awake and look around me | |
To the cold gray walls that surround me | |
And then I realize | |
I was only dreaming | |
For there' s a guard, and the sad old padre | |
Arm in arm, | |
I walk at daybreak | |
Again, I touch the green, green grass of home | |
Yes, they' ll all come to see me | |
In the shade of the old oak tree | |
As they lay me ' neath the green, green grass of home |