In the early morning rain, with a dollar in my hand
With an aching in my heart, and my pockets full of sand
I'm a long way from home; Lord, I miss my loved ones so
In the early morning rain, with no place to go.
Out on runway number nine: big 707 set to go
And I'm stuck here in the grass, with a pain that ever grows
Now the liquor tasted good, and the women all were fast
Well now, there she goes my friend: she'll be rolling down at last.
Hear the mighty engines roar; see the silver wing on high
She's away and westward bound; far above the clouds she'll fly
Where the morning rain don't fall, and the sun always shines
She'll be flying over my home in about three hours time.
This old airport's got me down; it's no earthly good to me
And I'm stuck here on the ground as cold and drunk as I can be
|: You can't jump a jet plane like you can a freight train
So I'd best be on my way, in the early morning rain :|