BLACK IS THE COLOUR

Christy Moore

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.
 
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.
 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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 had the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands
               F      G           Am
And I love the ground whereon she stands.