Black Is the Colour - Luka Bloom

Black is the colour of my true love’s hair

Her lips are like some rose so fair

She has 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

I wish the day it soon might come

When she and I might be as one

Black is the colour of my true love’s hair

Her lips are like some rose so fair

She has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands

I love the ground whereon she stands

I’ll go to the Clyde and I mourn and weep

Where satisfied I never shall be I write her a letter, just a few short lines

And suffer death ten thousand times

Black is the colour of my true love’s hair

Her lips are like some rose so fair

She has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands

I love the ground whereon she stands