Black is the colour Of my true love's hair Her lips are like rose so fair She's got the sweetest face And the gentlest hugs I love the ground whereon she stands
I love my love and well she knows I love the ground whereon she goes But I wish the day would come When she and I can be as one...
As one... As one... Can be... Can be...
Can be... As one... As one...
Black is the colour Of my true love's hair Her lips are like rose so fair She's got the sweetest face And the gentlest hugs I love the ground whereon she stands
Whereon she stands... Whereon she stands...
I go to the Clyde and mourn and weep But satisfied I never could sleep I'll write her a letter, just a few short lines And suffer death ten thousand times
Black is the colour of my true love's hair Her lips are like rose so faïr She's got the sweetest face And the gentlest hugs I love the ground whereon she stands
Whereon she stands... Whereon she stands... Whereon she stands... Whereon she stands...