Isadora

An empty stage swathed in velvet drapes

Curtain folds drawn in shadowscapes

Little girls swirl in the air

In their hair

They wear the flowers we threw

And when they dance

They pretend their youth

Isadora

Je vie a la moi

My windscreen's streaming

With jewels of rain

To and fro the wipers strain

As they sway and sway to clear the view

And as they dance

They pretend their youth

Isadora

Je vie a la moi

The trees and plants

As they dance

They can pretend their youth