Answer:
Without a bridle or a saddle across a thing I ride a-straddle. And those I ride by help of me though almost blind are made to see.
I have memories, but none of my own. Whatever's on my inside is what is shown. If I'm ever different, it's because you changed me. I feel like a decoration, here for you to arrange me. What am I?
Angels and pilots work with me.
I am there when you sit, but gone when you stand. What am I?
Where did the baseball keep its lemonade?
Brings the sky a lot closer.