Alice - Noël Coward

Alice - Noël Coward

Альбом
I'll See You Again / Noel Coward in New York
Год
2011
Язык
`English`
Длительность
198770

Below is the lyrics of the song Alice , artist - Noël Coward with translation

Lyrics " Alice "

Original text with translation

Alice

Noël Coward

In a dear little village

Remote and obscure

A beautiful maiden resided

As to whether or not

Her intentions were pure

Opinions were sharply divided

She loved to lie

Out 'neath the darkening sky

And allow the night breeze

To entrance her

She whispered her dreams

To the birds flying by

But seldom received any answer

Over the field and along the lane

Gentle Alice would love to stray

When it came to the end of the day

She would wander away

Unheeding

Dreaming her innocent dreams she strode

Quite unaffected by heat or cold

Frequently freckled or soaked with rain

Alice was out in the lane

Who she met there

Every day

Was a question

Answered by none

But she’d get there

And she’d stay there

'Til whatever she did

Was undoubtedly done

Over the field and along the lane

Both her parents would call in vain

Sadly, sorrowfully, they’d complain

'Alice is at it again.'

Although that dear little village

Surrounded by trees

Had neither a school, nor a college

Gentle Alice acquired

From the birds and the bees

Some exceedingly practical knowledge

The curious secrets that nature revealed

She refused to allow to upset her

But she thought

When observing the beasts of the field

That things might have been organised better

Over the field and along the lane

Gentle Alice would make up

And take up

Her stand

The road was not exactly arterial

But it led to a town nearby

Where quite a lot of masculine material

Caught her rolling eye

She was ready to hitchhike

Cadillac or motorbike

She wasn’t proud or choosy

All she

Was aiming to be

Was a pinked-up

Minked-up

Fly-by-night floozy

When old Rogers

Gave her pearls as large as

Nuts on a chestnut tree

All she’d say was

'Fiddle-di-dee!

The wages of sin will be the death of me!'

Over the field and along the lane

Gentle Alice’s parents

Would wait

Hand in hand

Her dear old white-headed mother

Wistfully sipping champagne

Said 'We've spoiled our child

Spared the rod

Open up the caviar and say «Thank God!»

We’ve got no cause to complain!

Alice is at it again!'

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