lirik lagu hamisch imlach - black is the colour
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well black is the colour of my true love’s hair
her lips are like some rose, so fair
she has the sweetest face she has the gentlest hands
i love the ground whereon he stands
i love my love and well she knows
i love the ground whereon she goes
and how i wish the day would come
when she and i shall be as one
i go to the clyde for to mourn and weep
but satisfied i never can be
well, i write you a letter, just a few short lines
i’ll suffer death a thousand times
yes, black is the colour of my true love’s hair
her lips are like some rose, so fair
she has the sweetest face and the gentlest hands
i love the ground whereon she stands
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