The sun hanging above the wing

I have no fear of flying

The stars lose height by morning's light

As slowly they are dying



My only eye my tiny light

The meter on the cable

An airy moon a silver spoon

The eaters at your table



Angelyne in your blue dress

Where's the meaning in a powdered night

Pressed between these memories of flight



If chance should spill her darkened cup

If one day we should marry

The crows would chortle in the trees

Our closest calls to bury



Or safe within your radio

I sleep til morning dawns on you

When weather or the telephone

Will tell you I have gone from you



Angelyne in your blue dress

Where's the meaning in a powdered night

Pressed between these memories of flight