Now black is the color of my [bad word] love`s hair
Her lips are like some roses fair
the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands.
I love the ground whereon she stands

I love my love and well she knows
I love the ground whereon she goes.
I hope the day will one [bad word] That she and I will be as one

Black is the color of my [bad word] love`s hair
Her lips are like some roses fair
The sweetest smile and the gentlest hands.
I love the ground whereon she stands

I go to the Clyde, for to mourn and weep
But satisfied, I never can be
I write her letters, just a few short lines
And suffer death ten thousand times

Now black is the color of my [bad word] love`s hair
Her lips are like some roses fair
The sweetest smile and the gentlest hands.
I love the ground whereon she stands
I love the ground where on she stands