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