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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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