{Black Is The Colour}
Black is the colour of my true love's hair
Her lips is like some a rose so fair
The sweetest smile, 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 that day soon come
When she and I will be as one
I go to the Clyde and mourn and weep
But satisfied I never should be
I'll write a letter just a few short lines
I'll suffer d**h ten thousand times
Black is the colour of my true love's hair
Her lips is like some rosy fair
And the sweetest smile, the gentlest hands
I love the ground whereon she stands