Letra de Prickly Thorn, But Sweetly Worn (Live)
Singin' li de li de li, oh, oh Well, a li de li de li, oh Li de li de li, oh, oh, oh Well, a li de li de li, ohWell, 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 thistleSingin' li de li de li, oh, oh Well, a li de li de li, oh Li de li de li, oh, oh, oh Well, a li de li de li, ohThe 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 gailySingin' 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, ohOne 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 wornSingin' 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, ohLi 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