In the early mornin´ rain with a dollar in my hand
And an achin´ in my heart and my pockets full of sand
I´m a long way from home and I miss my loved ones so
In the early mornin´ rain with nowhere to go

Out on runway number nine big 707 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 rollin´ 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 mornin´ rain don´t fall and the sun always shines
She´ll be flyin´ 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´d best be on my way in the early mornin´ rain