| Black is the color of my true love’s hair
|
| His lips are like some rosy fair
|
| The sweetest face and the neatest hands
|
| I love the ground where on he stands
|
| Soft is the feel of my true love’s skin
|
| And strong the arms he folds me in
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| The clearest eyes and the truest heart
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| He lets me stop before I start
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| I love my love, and well he knows
|
| I love his love and love it grows
|
| Until I know that I would burst
|
| And still I feel the strongest thirst
|
| I love my love and he loves me
|
| To my soul, he owns the key
|
| I have his heart and he has mine
|
| I’ll kiss his mouth ten thousand times
|
| Black is the color of my true love’s hair
|
| His lips are like some rosy fair
|
| The sweetest face and the neatest hands
|
| I love the ground where on he stands
|
| I love my love, and well he knows
|
| I love his love and love it grows
|
| Until I know that I would burst
|
| And still I feel the strongest thirst
|
| I love my love and he loves me
|
| To my soul, he owns the key
|
| I have his heart and he has mine
|
| I’ll kiss his mouth ten thousand times
|
| Black is the color, black is the color
|
| Black is the color of my true love’s hair |