Golden Needles – National Arboretum, Washington D.C

I grew up in faded gingham where love's a sacred thing;
You grew up in silk and satin where love's a passing game.
I know now you never loved me and I know I was the fool,
To think your heart would let you live by the golden rule.

Silver threads and golden needles can’t patch up this heart of mine,
And I'd never drown my sorrow in the warm glow of your wine.
You can’t buy my love with money for I never was that kind;
Silver threads and golden needles can’t patch up this heart of mine.