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

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

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

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

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