Gordon Lightfoot

In the early mornin' 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 loved ones so
In the early mornin' rain with no place to go

Out on runway number nine, big seven-o-seven set to go
But I'm stuck here in the grass where the cold wind blows
Now the liquor tasted good and the women all were fast
Well now there she goes my friend, well she's 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 mornin' 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, as cold and drunk as I can be
You can't jump a jet plane like you can a freight train
So I'd best be on my way in the early mornin' rain

You can't jump a jet plane, like you can a freight train
So I'd best be on my way in the early mornin' rain