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...
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