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In the early morning rain with a dollar in my hand |
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With an aching in my heart and my pockets full of sand |
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I'm a long way from home and i miss my loved one so |
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In the early morning rain with no place to go |
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Out on runway number nine big 707 set to go |
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But i'm stuck here on the grass where the cold winds they do blow |
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And where whiskey was and bars and the women they were fine |
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There she goes my friend, she rolling down at last |
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Here the mighty engines roar, see the silver bird on high |
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She's away and westward bound, far above the clouds she'll fly |
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There the morning rain don't fall and the sun always shines |
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She'll be flying over my home in about three hours time |
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This old airport's got me down it ain't no earthy good to me |
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Because i'm stuck here on the ground, cold and drunk as i can be |
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You can't hop a jet plane like you can a railroad train |
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So i'd best be on my way in the early morning rain |
