The Irish Descendants - Black Is The Colour | Текст песни

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• The Irish Descendants
• Black Is The Colour

Black is the colour of my true love's hair
Her lips are like some roses fair
She's the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands
I love the ground whereon she stands

I love my love and well she knows
I love the ground whereon she goes
How I wish the day would soon come
When she and I can be as one

Black is the colour of my true love's hair
Her lips are like some roses fair
She's the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands
I love the ground whereon she stands

I'll go to the Clyde and moan and weep
For satisfied I never could be
I'll write her a letter, just a few short lines
And I'll suffer death a thousand times

Black is the colour of my true love's hair
Her lips are like some roses fair
She's the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands
I love the ground whereon she stands

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