Cara Dillon - Black is the colour

Black is the ^Fcolour of my ^Gtrue love's ^Amhair Her lips are ^Flike a ^Grose so ^Amfair She's got the sweetest ^Fface and the ^Ggentlest ^Amhands I love the ^Fground where^Gon she ^Amstands

I love my ^Flove and ^Gwell she ^Amknows I love the ^Fground where^Gon she ^Amgoes And how I ^Fwish the ^Gday would ^Amcome When she and ^FI can ^Gbe as ^Fone

^GBlack is the ^Amcolour of my ^Gtrue love's ^Amhair Her lips are ^Flike a ^Grose so ^Amfair She's got the sweetest ^Fface and the ^Ggentlest ^Amhands I love the ^Fground where^Gon she ^Dstands

Oooh, whereon she ^Amstands ^FOooh, whereon she ^Dstands ^FOooh, whereon she ^Dmstands ^AmOooh, whereon she ^Fstands ^DmOooh, whereon she ^Amstands

I go to the ^FClyde and ^Gmourn and ^Amweep Satis^Ffied I ^Gnever will ^Amsleep I'll write her a ^Fletter, just a ^Gfew short ^Amlines And suffer ^Fdeath, ten ^Gthousand ^Amtimes

Black is the ^Fcolour of my ^Gtrue love's ^Amhair Her lips are ^Flike a ^Grose so ^Amfair She's got the sweetest ^Fface and the ^Ggentlest ^Amhands I love the ^Fground where^Gon she ^Fstands

I ^Glove the ^Fground where^Gon she ^Fstands G F G F G F G F G F G F G F G F