Black is the Color (live)

Black is the colour of my true love's hair
Her lips are like a rose of fire
She has the sweetest face and gentlest hands
And I love the ground whereon she stands
I love my love when wild she blows
I love the ground whereon she goes
Sometimes I wish the devil come
That she and I will be as one
Black is the colour of my true love's hair
Her lips are like a rose of fire
She has the sweetest face and gentlest hands
And I love the ground whereon she stands
I walked this glide for more than a week
For unsatisfied I never could sleep
I write her a letter each few short lines
And I've thought for them ten thousand times
Black is the colour of my true love's hair
Her lips are like a rose of fire
She has the sweetest face and gentlest hands
And I love the ground whereon she stands
And I love the ground whereon she stands
And I love the ground whereon she stands