In the haze of the morning, China sits on eternity   And the opium farmers sell dreams to obscure fraternities   On the horizon the curtains are closing      Down in the orchard the aunties and uncles play their games   Like it seems they always have done   In the blue distance the vertical offices bear their names   Like it seems they always have done   Clocks ticking slowly, dividing the day up      These poor girls are such fun   They know what God gave them fingers for   To make percussion over solos      China my China, I've wandered around and you're still here   Which I guess you should be proud of your walls have enclosed   You have kept you at home for thousands of years   But there's something I should tell you   All the young boys are dressing like sailors      I remember a man who jumped out from a window over the bay   There was hardly a raised eyebrow   The coroner told me, this kind of thing happens every day   You see, from a Pagoda, the world is so tidy