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High on the sacred mountain |
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Up the seven thousand stairs |
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In the golden light of autumn |
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There was magic in the air |
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Clouds surrounded the summit |
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The wind blew strong and cold |
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Among the silent temples |
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And the writing carved in gold |
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Somewhere in my instincts |
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The primitive took hold |
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I stood at the top of the mountain |
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And China sang to me |
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In the peaceful haze of harvest time |
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A song of eternity |
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If you raise your hands to heaven |
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You will live a hundred years |
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I stood there like a mystic |
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Lost in the atmosphere |
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The clouds were suddenly parted |
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For a moment I could see |
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The patterns of the landscape |
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Reaching to the eastern sea |
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I looked upon a presence |
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Spanning forty centuries |
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I thought of time and distance |
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The hardships of history |
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I heard the hope and the hunger |
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When China sang to me |
