In the early morning rain with a dollar in my hand
And an aching in my heart and my pockets full of
sand I'm a long way from home and I miss my loved
one so In the early morning rain with nowhere to
go.
Cut on runway number nine, big 707 set to go 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 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 morning rain don't
fall and the sun always shines She'll be flying
over my home in about three hours time.
This old airport's got me down, it's no earthly
good to me Because I'm stuck here on the ground,
cold and drunks as I might be You can't hop a jet
plane like you can a freight train So I'd best be
on my way in the early morning rain.
Letras: Early Mornin' RainBob Dylan [final]
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