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Black is the Colour
Christy Moore
Am F G Am Black is the colour of my true love’s hair. F G E7 Her lips are like some roses fair F G E7 She has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands F G Am And I love the ground whereon she stands. I love my love and well she knows I love the ground whereon she goes I wish the day it soon would come When she and I could be as one I go to the Clyde and I mourn and weep For satisfied I ne’er can be I write her a letter just a few short lines And suffer death a thousand times Black is the colour of my true love’s hair. Her lips are like some roses fair She had the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands And I love the ground whereon she stands.