aana char aane bache hai char aane, sun le waste naa karna yar
aana char aane bache hai char aane, sun le waste naa karna yar
bara aane jindagi yuhi waste hui, waste hui waste hui
bara aane jindagi yuhi waste hui, waste hui waste hui
ke abb toh aana char aane bache hai
char aane sun le waste naa karna yar
aana char aane bache hai char aane
sun le waste naa karna yar

itne sapne the jo dil me hi mar gaye
chadhne ke pehle hi parvat se dar gaye
itne sapne the jo dil me hi mar gaye
chadhne ke pehle hi parvat se dar gaye
abb toh chadhenge girenge dekhenge, kya hai parvaton ke paar
ke abb toh aana char aane bache hai
char aane sun le waste naa karna yar

backfoot backfoot backfoot backfoot pe khele the
fronfoot fronfoot fronfoot fronfoot pe khelenge
backfoot backfoot backfoot backfoot pe khele the
fronfoot fronfoot fronfoot fronfoot pe khelenge

second innings me jo maarenge
chhakka sidhe stadium ke paar
ke abb toh aana char aane bache hai
char aane sun le waste naa karna yar
bara aane jindagi yuhi waste hui, waste hui waste hui
bara aane jindagi yuhi waste hui, waste hui waste hui
ke abb toh aana char aane bache hai
char aane sun le waste naa karna yar

A quarter left, a quarter of life remains,
Hear me, friend, waste not these final grains.
A quarter left, a quarter of life's flame,
Hear me, friend, let not these slip in shame.
Three-quarters gone, the journey's wasted bloom,
Wasted, wasted, swallowed by the tomb.
Three-quarters lost, a wasted, fading hue,
Wasted, wasted, what will now ensue?
For now, a quarter, a whisper of the end,
A quarter left, on which we now depend.
A quarter left, a quarter of the all,
Hear me, friend, heed the heart's urgent call.

So many dreams, within the heart they died,
Before the climb, the mountain's fear, our guide.
So many dreams, within our bosoms slain,
Before the peak, the chilling, biting pain.
But now we'll rise, we'll fall, we'll bravely see,
What lies beyond, the mountains wild and free.
For now, a quarter, a whisper of the end,
A quarter left, on which we now depend.

Backfoot, backfoot, the cautious, timid play,
Backfoot, backfoot, where shadows hold their sway.
Frontfoot, frontfoot, the fearless, bold advance,
Frontfoot, frontfoot, a second, vibrant chance.
Backfoot, backfoot, the hesitant retreat,
Backfoot, backfoot, where sorrows often meet.
Frontfoot, frontfoot, the fire in our eyes,
Frontfoot, frontfoot, beneath the open skies.

In this next inning, we will strive and soar,
Six runs to freedom, breaking through the door.
For now, a quarter, a whisper of the end,
A quarter left, on which we now depend.
Three-quarters gone, the journey's wasted bloom,
Wasted, wasted, swallowed by the tomb.
Three-quarters lost, a wasted, fading hue,
Wasted, wasted, what will now ensue?
For now, a quarter, a whisper of the end,
A quarter left, on which we now depend.