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traditional - black is the colour lyrics

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but black is the colour of my true love’s hair
his face is like some rosy fair
the prettiest face and the neatest hands
i love the ground whereon he stands

i love my love and well he knows
i love the ground whereon he goes
if you no more on earth i see
i can’t serve you as you have me

the winter’s p-ssed and the leaves are green
the time is p-ssed that we have seen
but still i hope the time will come
when you and i shall be as one

i go to the clyde for to mourn and weep
but satisfied i never could sleep
i’ll write to you a few short lines
i’ll suffer death one thousand times

so fare you well, my own true love
the time has p-ssed, but i wish you well
but still i hope the time will come
when you and i will be as one

i love my love and well he knows
i love the ground whereon he goes
the prettiest face, the neatest hands
i love the ground whereon he stands



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