Burning airlines

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 the plane, a Newsweek on her knees

While miles below her 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, left them in Japan...