Black is the colour of my true loves hair
Her lips are like some roses fair
She has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands
And I love the ground whereon she stands
I love my love and well she knows
I love the ground whereon she goes
I wish that day would soon come
When she and I can be as one
I go to the Clyde and I mourn and weep
For satisfied I never sleep
I write her letters just a few short lines
And I suffer death ten thousand times
Black is the colour of my true loves hair
Her lips are like some roses fair
She has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands
And I love the ground whereon he stands
I love the ground whereon she stands
I love I love I love the ground whereon she stands
Другие названия этого текста
- Christy Moore - Black Is the Colour (2)
- Christy Moore - Black Is The Color (0)
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