The wages of an unskilled
Working man never paid enough
From time to time, a nickel on a race
Keeps him from giving up

The blue collared man in Seattle
Never lives on white collared street
But there was food on the table
For my Washington woman and me

The work slowed down and then one day
The foreman laid me off
That night in a tavern down to my last dime
I met a girl from Arkansas

Her daddy was a banker in Little Rock
She had a mansion on white collared street
The next morning my Washington woman
Woke up without me

From city to city, and state to state
I grew heavier with shame
My Washington woman had six months left
Before our child would bring her pain

My Arkansas woman hurt me
As we crossed the Arkansas line
But the arms of Seattle
Were the arms that kept hugging mine, mine

For years I have basked in expensive wines
Tasted champagne every day
I gave up all the things I loved
For all these things I hate

Locked up all of her forgiveness
The day I set myself free
And the heart of my Washington woman
Stopped beating for me

My Washington woman sends me
A letter every once in a while
Inside a folded wordless page
Is a picture of my child

All at once, the room grows cold
With a feeling of jealousy
And there's a silence between
My Arkansas woman and me