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Текст (слова) песни: Bob Dylan - Early Mornin Rain
In the early mornin rain
With a dollar in my hand
With an achin in my heart
And my pockets full of sand
Im a long way from home
And I missed my loved on so
In the early mornin rain
And no place to go
Out on runway number nine
Big seven-o-seven set to go
Well, Im 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
Shes a rollin down at last
Here the mighty engines roar
See the silver bird on high
Shes away in westward bound
Far above the clouds shell fly
Where the mornin rain dont fall
And the sun always shines
Shell be flyin over my home
In about three hours time
This old airports got me down
Its no earthly good to me
cause Im stuck here on the ground
Cold and drunk as I might be
You cant 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
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