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The Corrs - Black is the colour
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Black is the colour of my true love's hair 
His lips are like some roses fair 
He's the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands 
And I love the ground whereon he stands 

I love my love and well he knows 
I love the ground whereon he goes 
How I wish the time would soon come
When he and I can be as one 

I go to the Clyde and mourn and weep 
for satisfied I'd never sleep 
I write him a letter, just a few short lines 
And I suffer death ten thousand times 

Black is the colour of my true love's hair 
His lips are like some roses fair 
He's the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands 
I love the ground whereon he stands
I love the ground whereon he stands
I love, I love, I love the ground whereon he stands