Black Is The Colour feat Jenny ©2004 Marijanh Irish traditional Black is the colour of my true love's hair. Her lips are like some roses fair. she has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands, I love the ground whereon she stands. II I love my love and well she knows. I love the ground whereon she goes. I wish the day it soon would come, When she and I could be as one. III I go to the Clyde and I mourn and weep. For satisfied I never can be. I write her a letter, just a few short lines, And suffer death a thousand times. IV Black is the colour of my true love's hair. Her lips are like some roses fair. she has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands, I love the ground whereon she stands.