Текст песни Bob Dylan - Early Morning Rain

Текст:

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.

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