комментированный список 1959 "Фолк в районе Гарвард-сквер"

Black Is The Color (Traditional)

Black, black, black
is the colour of my true love's hair.
His lips are something wond'rous fair
The purest eyes and the bravest hands.
I love the ground whereon he stands.

I love my love and well he knows,
I love the ground whereon he goes
And if my love no more I see
my life would quickly fade away.

Black, black, black
is the colour of my true love's hair.
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