Lyrics

Well black is the colour of my true love's hair Her lips are like some rose, so fair She has the sweetest face, she has 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 And how I wish the day would come When she and I should be as one Well I go to the Clyde and I mourn and weep For satisfied I never can be Well, I write her a letter, just a few short lines And I suffer death a thousand times Yes, black is the colour of my true love's hair Her lips are like some rose, so fair She has the sweetest face, she has the gentlest hands And I love the ground whereon she stands