Black is the colour

Black is the colour of my true love's hair
Her lips are like a 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 hope the day it soon will come
When she and I can be as one

I go to the Clyde and mourn and weep
But satisfied I never will be
I'm gonna write her a letter a few simple lines
Then suffer death ten thousand times

She has the sweetest smile and the gentlest touch.
I love the ground where on she stands