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In the early mornin' rain With a dollar in my hand With an achin' in my heart And my pockets full of sand I'm a long way from home And i missed my loved on so In the early mornin' rain And no place to go Bob Dylan Out on runway number nine Big seven-o-seven set to go Well, 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 a rollin' down at last Here the mighty engines roar See the silver bird on high She's away in westward bound 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 airports 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 best be on my way In the early mornin' rain From "bob dylan - self portrait" , copyright by big sky music, published by bob dylan words & music company, inc. 1970