High on the sacred mountain
Up the seven thousand stairs
In the golden light of autumn

There was magic in the air

The clouds surrounded the summit

The wind blew strong and cold
Among the silent temples
And the writing carved in gold


Somewhere in my instincts
The primitive took hold


I stood at the top of the mountain
And China sang to me

In the peaceful haze of harvest time
A song of eternity


If you raise your hands to heaven
You will live a hundred years
I stood there like a mystic

Lost in the atmosphere

The clouds were suddenly parted

For a moment I could see
The patterns of the landscape
Reaching to the eastern sea


I looked upon a presence
Spanning forty centuries


I stood at the top of the mountain
And China sang to me

In the peaceful haze of harvest time
A song of eternity


I thought of time and distance
The hardships of history
I heard the hope and the hunger

When China sang to me...
When China sang to me