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Black Is the Colour

Black is the colour of my true love's hair

Her lips are like some rose so fair

She has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands

Oh, I love the ground whereon she standsI love my love, and well she knows

I love the ground whereon she goes

I wish the day it soon might come

When she and I might be as oneBlack is the colour of my true love's hair

Her lips are like some rose so fair

She has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands

Oh, I love the ground whereon she standsI'll go to the Clyde and mourn and weep

Where satisfied I never shall be

Write her a letter, just a few short lines

And suffer death 10,000 times

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