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