Текст песни: Prickly Thorn, But Sweetly Worn + перевод

Singing

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 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 oh

Well a li de li de li oh

Li de li de li oh oh oh

Well a li de li de li 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

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

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

Singing

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 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

Перевод песни Prickly Thorn, But Sweetly Worn