Everyone knows red roses mean romance
Daisies for celebration, carnations for a high school dance
We’ve determined every bloom is meant to suit a circumstance
But who decided violets scream “modesty”?
How can you tell a lily there’s a single thing that it’s allowed to mean?
Placing labels, setting limits on a thing that should be free
And we wrap them up in ribbons or in cellophane
Assign them their occasions, taking care how they’re arranged
But their colors bloomed long before we gave them names
In valleys and on sun soaked hills
I know the wildflowers are growing still
I prefer fewer rules when it comes to my bouquet
I try to see each blossom and not the role that it’s been cast to play
One forget-me-not can have a lot to say
So I’m a single stem with many blooms
More than just ornamental, I’m layered like a rich perfume
There’s an endless palate, why not paint with all the hues?
And you could wrap me up in ribbons or in cellophane
Assign me an occasion, taking care how I’m arranged
But my colors bloomed long before I had a name
In valleys and on sun soaked hills
I’m like the wildflowers
And I know the wildflowers are growing still
I’m bergamot, I’m daffodil, I’m endless fields of poppies in the spring
I’m a little bit of everything, as subtle and as grand as these flowers in my hand
And you could wrap us up in ribbons or in cellophane
Assign us our occasions, taking care how we’re arranged
But our colors bloomed long before we had our names
In valleys and on sun soaked hills
And I will grow like the wildflowers
‘Cause I’m like the wildflowers
And I know the wildflowers are growing still