| Song | Wildflower |
| Artist | Noa |
| Album | Live in Israel |
| In a tenement near the Henry Hudson River | |
| From my favorite spot on a rusting fire escape | |
| I would look below and see Mario | |
| Braving the ferocious dandelions | |
| Mario our fearless superintendent | |
| Kept the garden green, despite the parkway smog | |
| But the flowering weeds | |
| Their fates decreed | |
| Pulled, to keep his rosebush from dying | |
| Then I would creep inside, curl up in my bed | |
| Something strong was pulling at my head | |
| Pulling at my heart | |
| Wildflower, growing in all the wrong places | |
| Wildflower, so lowly neath that lovely rosebush | |
| Proper garden's nightmare, queen of open fields | |
| Tell me, who will love this wildflower | |
| For exactly what she is? | |
| Years passed by, we left that red brick building | |
| Left Mario behind | |
| For a brand new house | |
| But my dark brown skin | |
| On the white washed walls within | |
| Stood out, so it'd get me up and cryin' | |
| My growing pains had many rooms to fill then | |
| Mother never knew | |
| Had a garden to keep clean | |
| While there was N.Y. Grease | |
| On the young flower from the Middle East | |
| She was busy pulling dandelions | |
| Then I would creep inside, curl up in my bed | |
| Something strong was pulling at my head | |
| Pulling at my heart | |
| Wildflower, growing in all the wrong places | |
| Wildflower, so lowly 'neath that lovely rosebush | |
| Proper garden's nightmare, queen of open fields | |
| Tell me, who will love this wildflower | |
| For exactly what she is? |
| In a tenement near the Henry Hudson River | |
| From my favorite spot on a rusting fire escape | |
| I would look below and see Mario | |
| Braving the ferocious dandelions | |
| Mario our fearless superintendent | |
| Kept the garden green, despite the parkway smog | |
| But the flowering weeds | |
| Their fates decreed | |
| Pulled, to keep his rosebush from dying | |
| Then I would creep inside, curl up in my bed | |
| Something strong was pulling at my head | |
| Pulling at my heart | |
| Wildflower, growing in all the wrong places | |
| Wildflower, so lowly neath that lovely rosebush | |
| Proper garden' s nightmare, queen of open fields | |
| Tell me, who will love this wildflower | |
| For exactly what she is? | |
| Years passed by, we left that red brick building | |
| Left Mario behind | |
| For a brand new house | |
| But my dark brown skin | |
| On the white washed walls within | |
| Stood out, so it' d get me up and cryin' | |
| My growing pains had many rooms to fill then | |
| Mother never knew | |
| Had a garden to keep clean | |
| While there was N. Y. Grease | |
| On the young flower from the Middle East | |
| She was busy pulling dandelions | |
| Then I would creep inside, curl up in my bed | |
| Something strong was pulling at my head | |
| Pulling at my heart | |
| Wildflower, growing in all the wrong places | |
| Wildflower, so lowly ' neath that lovely rosebush | |
| Proper garden' s nightmare, queen of open fields | |
| Tell me, who will love this wildflower | |
| For exactly what she is? |