Black is the colour of my true loves hair His lips are like some roses fair He has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands And I love the ground whereon he stands I love my love and well he knows I love the ground whereon he goes I wish that day would soon 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 d**h ten thousand times Black is the colour of my true loves hair His lips are like some roses fair He has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands And I love the ground whereon he stands I love the ground whereon he stands I love I love I love the ground whereon he stands