Prickly Thorn, but Sweetly Worn

Lyrics
[Chorus] Singing, li-de-li-de-li, oh, oh Well, a-li-de-li-de-li, oh Li-de-li-de-li, oh, oh Well, a-li-de-li-de-li, oh [Verse 1] Well, the hills are pretty and rollin' But the thorn is sharp and swollen And the man plays a beautiful whistle But he wears a prickly thistle [Chorus] Singing, li-de-li-de-li, oh, oh Well, a-li-de-li-de-li, oh Li-de-li-de-li, oh, oh Well, a-li-de-li-de-li, oh [Verse 2] The silver birches pierce through an icy fog Which covers the ground most daily And the angels which carry St. Andrew high Are singing a tune most gaily [Chorus] Singing, li-de-li-de-li, oh, oh Well, a-li-de-li-de-li, oh Li-de-li-de-li, oh, oh Well, a-li-de-li-de-li, oh [Verse 3] One sound can hold back a thousand hands When the pipe blows a tune forlorn And the thistle is a prickly flower, aye But how it is sweetly worn [Chorus] Singing, li-de-li-de-li, oh, oh Well, a-li-de-li-de-li, oh Li-de-li-de-li, oh, oh Well, a-li-de-li-de-li, oh Li-de-li-de-li, oh, oh Well, a-li-de-li-de-li, oh Li-de-li-de-li, oh, oh Well, a-li-de-li-de-li, oh
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Credits
- Writers
- Jack White