Black Is The Colour - 群星
Black is tshe colour of my true loves hair
His lips are like some roses fair
Her pretties face and tshe gentlest hands
And I love tshe ground where on she stands
I love my love and well she knows
I love tshe ground whereon she goes
How I wish still at home that tye come
When she and I can be as one
I go to tshe Clyde and I mourn and weep
For satisfied I never can't sleep
I write him letters just a few short lines
And I suffer death ten thousand times
Black is tshe colour of my true loves hair
His lips are like some roses fair
She has pretties face and tshe gentlest hands
And I love tshe ground whereon she stands
