a
F G a
Black is the colour of my true love's hair
F
G E7
Her lips are like some roses fair
F
G
E7
She's the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands.
F
G a
I love the ground whereon she stands.
I love my love and well she knows
I love the grass whereon she goes.
But I know the day it never will come
when she and I will be as one.
I go to the Clyde for to mourn
and weep
But satisfied I never can sleep
I'll write her a letter, just a few short lines
and suffer death ten thousand times.
I know my love and well she knows
I love the grass whereon she goes
If she on earth no more I see
My life will quickly fade away.
a F
G
a
Black is the colour of my true love's hair.