My home looks like it grows grain,
One more foot each time it rains.
But I am wheat-free, though you'd think I'm in the pampas.
Hides the road and brook--it's kind of scary;
It engulfs trees--pears and cherries.
It's time to cut the mean green grass that's grown.

I have let it defeat me; all my neighbors entreat me
To go and cut the mean green grass that's grown.

You can't see the house standing,
'Cause the grass has grown so high
It chokes an old oak tree that may turn to rayon.

I've retained a crook, incendiary,
Teeth of gold; his flared lips scare me.
He's going to torch the mean green grass that's grown.

Spoken:
And then the blaze is all around me
And licking flames surround me
And I realize that he's been kerosening.
There goes the barn; the roof was dry shakes,
Five alarms, and there's no firebreak--
Shouldn't have torched the mean green grass that's grown.
Then the law comes to see me,
When the area is smoke-free.
They cuff me and say, "Green grass should have been mown!"