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(Gordon Lightfoot)

In the early mornin rain
With a dollar in my hand
And an aching in my heart
And my -pockets full of sand
Im a long ways from home
And I missed my loved one so
In the early mornin rain
With no place to go

Out on runway number nine
Big 707 set to go
Well Im out here on the grass
Where the pavement never grows
Where the liquor tasted good
And the women all were fast
There she goes my friend
Shes rolling out at last

Hear the mighty engines roar
See the silver wing on high
Shes away and westward bound
For above the clouds she flies
Where the mornin rain dont fall
And the sun always shines
Shell be flying over my home
In about three hours time

This ol airports got me down
Its no earthly good to me
Cause Im stuck here on the ground
Cold and drunk as I might be
Cant jump a jet plane
Like you can a freight train
So I best be on my way
In the early mornin rain
So I best be on my way
In the early mornin rain
So I best be on my way
In the early mornin rain