The Clean, Clean Grass Of Home

The Bard of Beer's Grizzly song for 2005, to the tune of The Green, Green Grass Of Home.

The old home town looks the same as I read up how to train
To run the Grizzly with my new clean pair of Saucony.
Down the road I look and there's the Grizzly,
Flat trails of gold, no talk of mis'ry,
It's good to touch the clean, clean grass of home.

Yes, they'll all come to meet me, arms reaching, smiling sweetly,
It's good to touch the clean, clean grass of home.

The high old cliffs are not standing and the weather's cool and dry.
And there's that sandy Branscombe beach that I used to play on.
Down Mare Lane I run to follow the Grizzly,
Flat trails of gold, no talk of mis'ry,
It's good to touch the clean, clean grass of home.

The black mud fields are now empty and the streams are running dry
And there's a door on the Way that opens just to step through.
Through the Wall I fade to win the Grizzly,
Flat trails of gold, no talk of mis'ry,
It's good to touch the clean, clean grass of home.

Yes, they'll all come to meet me, arms reaching, smiling sweetly,
It's good to touch the clean, clean grass of home.

(spoken )
Then I awake and look around me, at four muddy fields that surround me
And yes, I realise that I was only dreaming.
For there's a Grizzly and there's a first aid marshall-
With broken heart we'll walk to Seaton
Again to touch the clean, clean grass of home.

Yet, they'll all come to meet me, arms reaching, smiling sweetly,
As they lay me on - the clean, clean grass of home.

© Richard Hale, 2005