Christy Moore - Black is the colour

Black is the ^Fcolour^G, of my true love's ^Amhair, Her lips are l^Fike^G, some roses ^Efair, She's the sweetest s^Fmile^G, and the gentlest h^Amands, I love the g^Fround^G, where on she ^Amstands.

I love my l^Fove,^G and well she knows,^Am I love the ground, whereon she goes,

Black is the ^Fcolour^G, of my true love's ^Amhair, Her lips are l^Fike^G, some roses ^Efair, She's the sweetest s^Fmile^G, and the gentlest h^Amands, I love the g^Fround^G, where on she ^Amstands.

I go to the C^Flyde^G and I mourn and w^Ameep, For satis^Ffied^G, I ne'er can ^Ebe, I write her a l^Fetter^G, just a few short l^Amines, And suffer d^Feath^G, a thousand ^Amtimes.

Black is the ^Fcolour^G, of my true love's ^Amhair, Her lips are l^Fike^G, some roses ^Efair, She's the sweetest s^Fmile^G, and the gentlest h^Amands, I love the g^Fround^G, where on she ^Amstands. I love the g^Fround^G, where on she ^Amstands.