Black is the Colour
Trad.
| 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's the sweetest | smile - | and the gentlest | hands. |
| F | G | Am | ||
| I love the | ground - | where on she | stands. |
| Am | F | G | Am | ||
| I love my | love - | well she | knows. |
| F | G | E7 | ||
| I love the | ground - | where on she | goes. |
| F | G | E7 | ||
| I wish the | day - | it soon would | come |
| F | G | Am | ||
| When she and | I - | could be as | one. |
| Am | F | G | Am | ||
| I go to the | Clyde - | and mourn and | weep. |
| F | G | E7 | ||
| Satis | fied - | I never can | be. |
| F | G | E7 | ||
| I write her a | letter, - | just a few short | lines - |
| F | G | Am | ||
| And suffer | death - | a thousand | times. |
| Am | F | G | Am | ||
| For | Black is the | colour - | of my true love's | hair. |
| F | G | E7 | ||
| Her lips are | like - | some roses | fair. |
| F | G | E7 | ||
| She's the sweetest | smile - | and the gentlest | hands. |
| F | G | Am | ||
| I love the | ground - | where on she | stands. |