Traditional ballad (Scotland)

Black is the colour of my [bad word] love's hair
Her face so soft and wondrous fair
The purest eyes
And the neatest hands
I love the ground whereon she stands
I love the ground whereon she stands

Black is the colour of my [bad word] love's hair
Of my [bad word] love's hair
Of my [bad word] love's hair

I love my lover
Well she knows
I love the ground on where she goes
But still I hope
The time [bad word] 
When she and I will be as one
When she and I will be as one

Black is the colour of my [bad word] love's hair
Black is the colour of my [bad word] love's hair
Black is the colour of my [bad word] love's hair