Black is the Colour
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 whereon she stands
I love my love and well she knows
I love the ground whereon she goes
And I wish the day it soon would come
When she and I can be as one
The winter’s past and the leaves are green
The time has passed that we have seen
If you no more on earth I see
I can’t serve you as you have me
I go to the Clyde and I mourn and weep
Satisfied I never can be
I write a letter, just a few short lines
And suffer death a thousand times
Oh 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 whereon she stands
OOC A traditional song from Scotland. Here it's presented from a man's point of view, but it works just as well sung by a woman about a man...
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