Black is the colour
of my true loves hair.
Her lips are like a rose so fair.
She's got the sweetest face
and the gentlest hands.
I love the ground whereon she stands.
I love my love
and well she knows.
I loves the ground
whereon she goes.
And how I wish the time would come,
when she and I will be as one.
I go to the Clyde
and mourn and weep.
Satisfied I never will sleep.
I write her a letter,
just a few short lines.
And suffer d**h
Ten Thousand Times...