Black is the colour of my [bad word] love's hair.
Her lips are like rose so fair,
She's got the sweetest face and the gentlest hugs,
I love the ground whereon she stands.

I love my love and well she knows,
I love the ground whereon she goes,
And how I wish the day [bad word] When she and I shall be as one.

Black is the colour of my [bad word] love's hair.
Her lips are like rose so fair,
She's got the sweetest face and the gentlest hugs,
I love the ground whereon she stands.

I go to the Clyde for to mourn and weep,
But satisfied I never could sleep.
I'll write her a letter, just a few short lines,
I'll suffer death ten thousand times.

Black is the colour of my [bad word] love's hair.
Her lips are like rose so faïr,
She's got the sweetest face and the gentlest hugs,
I love the ground whereon she stands