Bob Emery’s lyrics:

Oh, the grass is always greener
In the other fellow’s yard.
That little row, we have to hoe,
Oh boy, that’s hard.
Well, we all can see the fine clothes,
That the folks have on their backs.
But we never see the mortgage,
That’s hanging on their shack.
And we liked our little roadster,
‘Til the Days got their sedan.
Now we call our roadster,
Just an old tomato can.
And if we all could wear green glasses now,
It wouldn’t be so hard,
To see how green that grass is,
In our own .. back...yard.