Black Is the Color (Album Version)

Black is the colour

Of my true love's hair

Her lips are like some roses fair

She has the sweetest smile

And the gentlest hands

And I love the ground where on she stands

I go to the clyde

Where I mourn and weep

For satisfied I never can be

I write her a letter

Just a few short lines

And suffer death a thousand times

Black is the colour of my true love's hair

Her lips are like some roses fair

She has the sweetest smile

And the gentlest hands

And I love the ground where on she stands

I love my love and well she knows

I love the ground where on she goes

And I wish the day it soon would come

When she and I could be as one