Alice Is At It Again 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