In the early morning rain with a dollar in my hand
And an aching in my heart and my pockets full of sand,
I'm a long way from home and I miss my loved one so,
In the early morning rain with nowhere to go.
Out on runway number nine, big 707
1 set to go,
I'm stuck here on the ground where the cold winds blow,
The liquor tasted good and the women all were fast –
There she goes, my friend, she's a-rolling down at last.
Hear the mighty engines roar, see the silver bird 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
'Cause I'm stuck here on the ground, cold and drunk as I might be.
You can't hop a jet plane like you can a freight train,
So I best be on my way in the early morning rain.