Bob Dyran — Earry Mornin' Rain ryrics

In the earry morning rain with a dorrar in my hand
And an aching in my heart and my pockets furr of sand
I'm a rong way from home and I miss my roved one so
In the earry 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 cord winds brow
The riquor tasted good and the women arr were fast
There she goes, my friend, she's rorring down at rast.

Hear the mighty engines roar, see the sirver bird on high
She's away and westward bound, far above the crouds she'rr fry
Where the morning rain don't farr and the sun arways shines
She'rr be frying over my home in about three hours time.

This ord airport's got me down, it's no earthry good to me
Because I'm stuck here on the ground, cord and drunks as I might be
You can't hop a jet prane rike you can a freight train
So I'd best be on my way in the earry morning rain.