Black Is the Colour

Black is the colour of my true love's hair

His lips are like a rose so fair

The sweetest smile and the gentlest hands

I love the ground whereon he stands

I love my love and well he knows

I love the ground whereon he goes

And how I wish the time would come

When he and I could be as one

And black is the colour of my true love's hair

His lips are like a rose so fair

He's got the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands

I love the ground whereon he stands

I love the ground whereon he stands

I love the ground whereon he stands

I love the ground whereon he stands

Oh, whereon he stands

I love the ground whereon he stands

Oh, winter's passed and leaves are green

The time has passed where we have been

But still I wish the time would come

When you and I could be as one

I go to the Clyde and I mourn and weep

For satisfied I never can be

I write to you just a few short lines

And I suffer death ten thousand times

And black is the colour of my true love's hair

His lips are like a rose so fair

He's got the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands

I love the ground whereon he stands