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 and I miss my darlin' so.
In the early morning rain with no place to go.
Out on runway number nine, big 707's set to go,
But I'm stuck here on the ground where the cold winds blow,
Where the liquor tasted good and the women were so fast.
There she goes my friend. Oh she's rolling now 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 o'er 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 can be.
You can't jump a jet plane like you can a freight train,
So I best be on my way in the early morning rain.

So I best be on my way in the early morning rain.