Amelia

Harbor Grace, Newfoundland, the ground was wet and soft.
Were you a tad bit nervous, did you have your fingers crossed?
Hoping for a miracle of science or of God, to put your little airplane in the sky.

The air's a place for men they said, those acrobats of war.
And anyway Lucky Lindy did it all before.
Go back to your mama, go home and be a wife.
Cause we all know that girls aren't meant to fly.

Amelia, open up that throttle get above those trees.
The icebergs looming sharp and white.
With a big combustion engine and a fool's head full of dreams.
You'll cut across the blue Atlantic Sky.

What's it like to sit alone in solitary dark?
With your friend the rumbling engine and a dome of northern stars.
Did you laugh a little as you did what they said that you could not?
All while watched by a hundred million eyes.

At 9 A.M. on New York time was luck the one you thanked?
Or was it rust in progress as the night behind you sank?
hours up on Lindy's time you caught the eastern glow.
And the coast of Ireland came into sight.

Chorus

14 hours and 56 minutes in the clouds.
From the time that you pushed off to the time that you touched down.
A thermos of tomato soup to warm against the chill.
And a little faith can go a long long way.

Chorus