Lyrics:

Hometown lady, leavin' for the city
Bags in hand, she's boardin' the train
Her last look through the window, I saw her eyes were as red as mine
I wave goodbye but I can't believe she's leavin'

But a woman can't be high-class
In a lonely farmer's town
And the son of a poor man
Ain't gonna turn your head around
But if you ever get lonely
Just pick up a telephone
And the son of a poor man will bring you home

Maybe soon I'll see her on some television show
Painted lips and fingers singin' for the world
A fashion plate for sure, dancin' for your plastic world
Call me up if you can, but if not, well I understand

But a woman can't be high-class
In a lonely farmer's town
And the son of a poor man
Ain't gonna turn your head around
But if you ever get lonely
You just pick up a telephone
And the son of a poor man will bring you home
And the son of a poor man will bring ya
And the son of a poor man will bring you down