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Gaelic Storm

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Gaelic Storm

Black Is the Colour

Now black is the color of my true love's hair
Her lips are like summer roses fair
The sweetest smile and the gentlest hand
I love the ground where on she stands

I love my love, I know well she knows
I love the ground where on she goes
I hope the day will one day come
When she and I will be as one

Now black is the color of my true love's hair
Her lips are like summer roses fair
The sweetest smile and the gentlest hand
I love the ground where on she stands
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I go to the Clyde for to mourn and weep
For satisfied I never can be
I write her letters, just a few short lines
And suffer death a thousand times

Now black is the color of my true love's hair
Her lips are like summer roses fair
The sweetest smile and the gentlest hand
I love the ground where on she stands

I love the ground where on she stands