clique para tocar Fechar
Damien Rice
black is the colour
Black is the colour of my true love's hairHer lips are like some rosy 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 go the Clyde and I mourn and weep
Shiny I can never be
Black is the colour of my true love's hair
Her lips are like some rosy fair
She has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands
And I love the ground whereon she stands
And I love the ground whereon she stands
And I love the ground whereon she stands
And I love the ground whereon she stands
And I love the ground whereon she stands