She's a dancer in the garden and she dances with the flowers In the early morning hours when the wind shifts and the fog drifts She's a dancer She's a dancer and she knows it everywhere she goes she shows it Condescending not pretending no regretting nor forgetting she's a dancer And on my early morning walks I often find her I sit pretending that I'm looking at the paper And when people stop to watch her She pretends she doesn't see them Doesn't need them and where she goes There the wind blows though it's only with the flowers that she dances And on my early morning walks I often find her I sit pretending that I'm looking at the paper