Kauda Bole Alice Lyrics by Gypsies

Deep in a heavy sleep, I woke to the neighbour’s racket,
peeped through a window to see what all the fuss was about,
a van’s pulled up, and at dawn they’re unloading a huge pile of things,
“Alice has come,” the neighbour says, an unfamiliar name

Oh, I barely caught a glimpse of her face,
from the side she looks like Josie,
oh good grief, who on earth really is this Alice? (Alice)
Rosalyn, Josalyn, come over here,
Simon, Martin, take a look at this,
oh good grief, who on earth really is this Alice?
A crowd comes and goes, the name “Alice” keeps ringing out,
the neighbour’s house is like a wedding hall

They eat, they drink, they laugh, Alice is barely even visible,
this whole business is a real head-scratcher

Oh, I barely caught a glimpse of her face,
from the side she looks like Josie,
oh good grief, who on earth really is this Alice? (Alice)
who on earth is Alice,
Rosalyn, Josalyn, come over here,
Simon, Martin, take a look at this

A comic, affectionately nosy neighbourhood song, one of the Gypsies’ beloved party numbers. The whole thing is a small domestic mystery told by a busybody narrator: woken from deep sleep by a commotion next door, he peeps out the window to find a van unloading a huge pile of belongings at dawn, and a neighbour announcing that someone named Alice has arrived, a name nobody recognizes.

The joke is his mounting curiosity. He barely glimpses her face, decides that from the side she looks like Josie, and keeps exclaiming, half to himself, half to the whole street, who on earth really is this Alice? He calls out to everyone by name, Rosalyn, Josalyn, Simon, Martin, come look, dragging the entire neighbourhood into his investigation.

As the day goes on the mystery only grows: crowds come and go, the name Alice keeps ringing out, and the neighbour’s house fills up like a wedding hall, with eating, drinking and laughing, while Alice herself stays barely visible. The song never solves the riddle, and that is exactly the point. It is a warm, funny portrait of small-town nosiness, the way a single new face can set an entire lane buzzing. Performed by the Gypsies, it is pure good-humoured fun.