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The White Stripes lyrics : "Prickly Thorn, But Sweetly Worn"

Singing
Li De Li De Li Oh Oh
Well A Li De Li De Li Oh Oh

Li De Li De Li Oh Oh
Well A Li De Li De Li Oh Oh


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

Singing

Li De Li De Li Oh Oh
Well A Li De Li De Li Oh Oh
Li De Li De Li Oh Oh

Well A Li De Li De Li Oh Oh

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


One sound can hold back a thousand hands
When the pipe plays a tune forlorn

And the thistle is a prickly flower
Aye, But how it is sweetly worn


Singing
Li De Li De Li Oh Oh
Well A Li De Li De Li Oh Oh

Li De Li De Li Oh Oh
Well A Li De Li De Li Oh Oh

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