Black is the colour

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 he knows

I love the ground whereon he goes

I wish that day soon would come

When he and I can be as one

I go to the Clyde and I mourn and weep

For satisfied I never sleep

I write him letters just a few short lines

And I suffer death a thousand times

Black is the colour (black is the colour) of my true loves hair (of my true loves hair)

Her lips are like (lips are like) some roses fair (some roses fair)

The sweetest smile (he has the sweetest smile) and the gentlest hands (and the gentlest hands)

And I love the ground (I love the ground) whereon she stands (whereon he stands)

Black is the colour of my true loves hair