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Black Is The Colour

The Corrs

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Melon

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Black is the colour of my true love's hair His lips are like some roses fair He has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands I love the ground whereon he stands I love my love and well he knows I love the ground whereon he goes How I wish that day will soon come when he and I can be as one I go to the Clyde and mourn and weep For satisfied I never sleep I write him a letter just a few short words And I suffer death ten thousand times Black is the colour of my true love's hair His lips are like some roses fair He has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands I love the ground whereon he stands I love the ground whereon he stands I love I love I love the ground whereon he stands

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The Corrs
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