| C | G | F | C | |
| In the early mornin' r | ain, with a do | llar in my h | and, |
| Dm | F | C | |
| With an achin' in my he | art, a | nd my pockets full of sa | nd. |
| Dm | C | |
| I'm a long way from h | ome, and I miss my loved ones | so, |
| G | F | C | |
| In the early mornin' r | ain, with | no place to | go. |
| Out on runway number nine, big seven-o-seven set to go, |
| But I'm stuck here in the grass, where the cold wind blows. |
| Now the liquor tasted good, and the women all were fast, |
| Well there she goes, my friend, she's rollin' now 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 mornin' rain don't fall, and the sun always shines, |
| She'll be flying o'er my home, in about three hours time. |
| This old airport's got me down, it's no earthly good to me, |
| 'Cause I;m stuck here on the ground, as cold and drunk as I can be. |
| You can't jump a jet plane, like you can a freight train, |
| So I'd best be on my way, in the 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. |
| I'm a long way from home, and I miss my loved ones so, |
| In the early mornin' rain, with no place to go. |