When I got back home I found a message on the door

Sweet Regina's gone to China crosslegged on the floor

Of a burning jet that's smoothly flying

Burning airlines give you so much more





How does she intend to live when she's in far Cathay

I somehow can't imagine her just planting rice all day

Maybe she will do a bit of spying

With microcameras hidden in her hair





I guess Regina's on a plane a Newsweek on her knees

While miles below the curlews call from strangely stunted trees

The painted sage sits just as though he's flying

Regina's jet disturbs his wispy beard.





When you reach Kyoto send a postcard if you can

And please convey my fond regards to Chih-Hao's girl Yu-Lan

I heard a rumour they were getting married

But someone left the papers in Japan.





Left them in Japan.