Lawns for the rich,
Turf for the bookie,
Gardens for everyone.
Green, green grass,
Sythed by the farmer,
Mowed for the stately home,
Trimmed to the reverse swing of the bowler.
Green, green, green grass.
Valleys for the proud Welsh,
Courts for the Wimbledon pairs,
The Vikings first view of cold Greenland.
Green, green, green, green grass.
But sometimes the grass is greener on the other side,
And artificial grass isn’t really grass at all,
Sometimes on a beautiful sunny day in a car ride
The world is stunned by a grassy knoll.