(Words & music by 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
I`m 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 I`m 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
She`s rolling out at last
Hear the mighty engines roar
See the silver wing on high
She`s away and westward bound
For above the clouds she flies
Where the mornin` rain don`t fall
And the sun always shines
She`ll be flying over my home
In about three hours time
This ol` 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
Can`t 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