Lyrics Black Is the Colour - Isobel Campbell
Black
is
the
colour
of
my
true
love's
hair
Her
lips
are
like
some
roses
fair
She's
the
sweetest
face
and
the
gentlest
hands
I
love
the
ground
wheron
she
stands
I
love
my
love
and
well
she
knows
I
love
the
ground
whereon
she
goes
But
some
times
I
whish
the
day
will
come
That
she
and
I
will
be
as
one
Black
is
the
colour
of
my
true
love's
hair
Her
lips
are
like
some
roses
fair
She's
the
sweetest
face
and
the
gentlest
hands
I
love
the
ground
wheron
she
stands
I
walk
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
Black
is
the
colour
of
my
true
love's
hair
Her
lips
are
like
some
roses
fair
She's
the
sweetest
face
and
the
gentlest
hands
I
love
the
ground
wheron
she
stands
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