The wages of an unskilled working man never paid enough
From time to time the nickel 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 huggin' my mind

For years I've basked in expensive wines, taste cheaper every day
I gave up all the things I loved for all these things I hate
And 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