Elvis Presley’s rendition of “Green, Green Grass of Home” stands as a poignant testament to the power of storytelling through song. Originally written by Claude “Curly” Putman Jr. and first recorded by Porter Wagoner in 1965, the song found its definitive voice in Elvis’s heartfelt interpretation. Released as a single in 1967, Presley’s version captured the essence of longing, nostalgia, and the bittersweet reality of memory.
The narrative of “Green, Green Grass of Home” unfolds like a vivid dream, as the protagonist recounts his return to his hometown, greeted by the familiar sights and sounds of his youth. The evocative imagery of the lush green fields and the old oak tree paints a picture of nostalgia and longing for the simplicity of home. As the story unfolds, however, a stark realization dawns upon the protagonist – he is not returning to the embrace of his loved ones but to the cold confines of a prison cell. The juxtaposition of the idyllic memories with the harsh reality of incarceration adds layers of depth to the song’s emotional resonance.
Did you know
- “Green, Green Grass of Home” was originally written by Claude “Curly” Putman Jr. and was first recorded by Porter Wagoner in 1965. However, it was Elvis Presley’s rendition that became the most famous and enduring version of the song.
- Despite its widespread popularity, Elvis Presley never performed “Green, Green Grass of Home” live in concert. The song was primarily recorded and released as a studio track.
- The song’s theme of a prisoner longing for his hometown resonated deeply with Elvis Presley, as he had a strong connection to his roots in Tupelo, Mississippi, and Memphis, Tennessee. This personal connection may have contributed to the emotional depth of his performance.
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Lyrics
The old home town looks the sameAs I step down from the trainAnd there to meet me is my mama and papaDown the road, I look and there runs MaryHair of gold and lips like cherriesIt’s good to touch the green, green grass of homeYes, they’ll all come to meet meArms a’reaching, smiling sweetlyIt’s good to touch the green, green grass of homeThe old house is still standingThough the paint is cracked and dryAnd there’s that old oak tree that I used to play onDown the lane I walk and with my sweet MaryHair of gold and lips like cherriesIt’s good to touch the green, green grass of homeThen I awake and look around meAt four gray walls that surround meAnd I realize that I was only dreamingFor there’s a guard and there’s a sad old padreArm and arm, we’ll walk at daybreakAgain I’ll touch the green, green grass of homeYes, they’ll all come to see meIn the shade of that old oak treeAs they lay me ‘neath the green, green grass of home
