About the song
Joan Baez’s rendition of “The Green, Green Grass of Home” is a timeless classic that resonates deeply with listeners of all ages. This poignant ballad, originally penned by Claude “Curly” Putman Jr. and made famous by country legend Porter Wagoner, takes us on a journey through themes of nostalgia, longing, and the bittersweet embrace of home.
In her interpretation, Joan Baez infuses the song with her signature emotional depth and ethereal voice, drawing listeners into its rich narrative tapestry. The track is featured on her album “Farewell, Angelina,” released in 1965, which showcases her exceptional talent as both a singer and interpreter of folk and protest music.
Throughout her illustrious career, Joan Baez has garnered widespread acclaim for her contributions to the folk music genre. With her captivating performances and unwavering commitment to social justice, she has become an icon of the 1960s counterculture movement. “The Green, Green Grass of Home” stands as a testament to her ability to breathe new life into beloved classics, while staying true to the essence of the original compositions.
Over the years, Joan Baez’s rendition of this timeless ballad has captured the hearts of audiences around the world, earning accolades and recognition for its emotional resonance and evocative storytelling. Whether you’re a longtime fan or discovering her music for the first time, “The Green, Green Grass of Home” is sure to leave a lasting impression and stir the soul.
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Lyrics
… The old hometown 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
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 Mary
Hair of gold and lips like cherries
It’s good to touch the green, green grass of home
… Then I awake and look around me
At four grey walls that surround me
And I realize, yes, I was only dreaming
For there’s a guard and there’s a sad, old padre
On and on, 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