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Black is the colour of my true love's hair His lips are like some roses fair He's 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 How I wish the time would soon come When he and I can be as one I go to the Clyde and mourn and weep for satisfied I’d never sleep I write him a letter, just a few short lines And I suffer death ten thousand times Black is the colour of my true love's hair His lips are like some roses fair He's 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