Letra de Black Is The Colour - Paul Weller

Black is the color of my true love's hair
Her lips are like some roses fair
She has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands
And I love the ground whereon she stands.

I love my love and well she knows
I love the ground whereon she goes
I wish the day it soon would come
When she and I could be as one.

I go to the Clyde, and I mourn and weep
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For satisfied I never can be
I'll write her a letter, just a few short lines
And I owe death a thousand times

Black is the color of my true love's hair
Her lips are like red roses fair
She has the sweetest smile
and the gentlest hands
And I love the ground whereon she stands.