Sampans writing their silhouettes against a skyline
Hazy Hong Kong teams against the twilight
Dressed in white suits and rickshaw.
Your eyes are deeply set.
We are in love.
The hot iron sun
Caresses the copper from your hair.
These are the moments we rush through life for.
These are the moments that thrust by too fast.
On the hillside a white robed Mandarin
Plays melodies on a flute.
The stars alone hear his music
As he plays with the rhythm of the wind.