Prickly Thorn, But Sweetly Worn

"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
(...)
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."

The White Stripes