Black Is The Colour (Of My True Love's hair)

 
 

 Black Is the Colour (Of My True Love's Hair)

By Slim Tailor

Black, Black, Black is the colour of my true love's hair.
Her lips are something wondrous affair
The purest eyes and the daintiest hands.
I love the grass where on she stands.

I love my love - well she knows.
I love the ground where on she goes.
I wish the day it soon would come
when she and I could be as one.

I go to trouble, some to mourn, to weep
Satisfied I never can sleep.
I write her a letter, just a few short lines
I’ll suffer death a thousand times.

For black is the colour of my true love's hair.
Her lips are like a rose so fair.
She hast the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands.
I love the ground where on she stands.