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