My love is black with golden hair.

My love is black with golden hair
a see through dress she slips inside
I long to taste her straight away
but patients rule, I must abide
I caress her skin thats wet like dew
kiss soft the foam upon her head
See the bubble stars that rise
through the window of her bed
I could spend the night with her
talking the hind legs off a stool
she has teased me all along
made me a mumbling, stumbling fool
 If I spend too long with her
my legs no longer can take me home
she lays me down in a field
of quilted grass with pillow stone.
I love her taste upon my tongue
the way she always invites me in
to spend a little time with her
and drink the dark taste of sin
She fills me up with deep regret
the unfilled tasks gives gentle stir
for I have loved her constantly
and  given up my life to her.
I never counted up the cost
time, troubles, the rows, despair
for I have loved her ebony colour
and every strand of her blond hair.
So when knock time day it comes
when fires of love burns too intense
I will leave her to another man
now she's emptied my pockets
of  pounds and pence.
Alone, she will not abandon me
but tempt me with a dream so pure
that when I’am in my darkest days
my love for her will seem a cure
Parched I am, with loss, loves longing
to kiss again those lips I missed
for I know the dangers of the folly
the cravings for her lips I kissed.
I'd drink you down my lovely
Till you'd make my thoughts spin
Your juice of black delights me
With songs I'll make you grin.
But then you make me stumble
You seduce me to your trap
The trickles of your beauty
Spills slowly from  silver tap.
Your barrel’s full of laughter
are company when friends are gone
And only your darkness lives
Where the lights of family shone
I lay with you in the gutter
You rock me still to sleep
When I take the cap off you
Your loveliness makes me weep
I tried to stay away from you
your perfumes proved too strong.
I regret the life I waste'd
With all it's rights and wrongs.
Darkened day clouds over me
in cold clay coffin I’am checked
you’ve staggered me to my funeral
with a priestly collar on your neck
you pour me in a timber box
with a gold plastic cross upon its cover
a mourner lays you down beside me
for he knew I was once your lover.
They raise a glass to my sweet lass
and the twists and turns we made
To her black and creamy beauty
to her light and all her shade
to the way I held her to my mouth
with my fingers round her waist
and the way I’d drank her beauty in
to savor that dark Guinness taste.