6.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 the hills are pretty and rollin'
But the thorn is sharp and swollen
And the man plays a beautiful whistle
Singing
Li De Li De Li Oh Oh
Well A Li De Li De Li Oh Oh
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
One sound can hold back a thousand hands
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
When the pipe plays a tune forlorn
And the thistle is a prickly flower
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
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
One sound can hold back a thousand hands
Singing
Singing
Well the hills are pretty and rollin'
The silver birches pierce through an icy fog