Black is the color of my [bad word] loves hair,

and her lips are like a rose so fair

I've hung her as a curtain in my mothers room and I love the smell of her gasping breathe

and the sense of loss and the sense of death

 

Well winter has passed so the rain(reign?) is free and it claws at the roof, above me

I sleep beneath her lily face and breath in the air that she does displace

I suck in that air without a hint of disgrace

 

Yes winter has passed so the rain is free

 

Black black black is the color of my [bad word] loves hair

And soon soon soon i am hoping a child she will bear

no black black black black is the color of my [bad word] loves hair

 

And soon soon soon soon I am hoping a child she will bear

 

and Black black black is the color of my [bad word] loves hair

 

and soon soon soon I am hoping a child she will bear

 

Black is the color of my [bad word] loves hair, and her lips are like a rose so fair