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Black Coffee

de The Corrs

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 where on 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
And I love the ground whereon he stands
I love the ground whereon he stands
I love, I love, I love the ground where on he stands

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